#if someone wants to draw this I would TOTALLY buy it

[mavisthemae]

A side thing I really, really enjoy about the Murderbot universe is its lawyers.

For one thing, Martha Wells refers to "corporate solicitors", not "attorneys" nor "counsel". In one book (can't remember which), Pin-Lee refers to her General Counsel which is the apex of in-house practice.

Pin-Lee is close to perfectly written, she is strategic, sharp as a razor, pugnacious and ever so slightly too aggressive for everyone else's comfort, of course is a workaholic and is almost always up to her eyeballs in documents and drafting.

In Fugitive Telemetry, the second that Mensah even suggests displeasure at Indah Pin-Lee has begun her legal research, is preparing to advise and is champing at the bit to draw up a legal fireball. And she is not happy when the tack changes, but of course takes instructions and backs down. (I myself have never hissed when the opportunity to really go someone evaporates, but I have certainly felt it.)

And Pin-Lee is much more than a brain on legs. She cares very strongly about and for her team: in Exit Strategy she's well aware how dangerous a situation she, Ratthi and Gurathin are in, tries (not well admittedly) to buoy the others up and is sensibly cautious when Murderbot approaches her. When Murderbot returns to Preservation Space she's the one who makes sure that not only does it know it's free to leave again if it wants but that it has the means to do so (with the hard currency and fake IDs). She swears, drinks, parties and loves watching gruesome I-told-you-so media about hostile fauna.

She's sized up Murderbot and totally runs rings around it in her own domain - one of the funniest things for me in Network Effect (besides "no hugging") was the revelation that she'd written its contract with PresAux so as to try and keep it safe from itself. To its outrage.

The court system is never explained (with no apparent government, how are Corporate Rim judges appointed and their decisions enforced? Is there any appeal system? My guess would be that it's essentially treaty-based with each participating polity enacting the necessary legislation and the corporations entering into some behemoth multipartite Deed the breach of which brings the wrath of all the counterparties raining down...but that's circular, because - I'll stop myself here on the basis that very few lawyers will be reading this!) I'll buy it though as equivalent to the tech hand-waving. It's something that doesn't get explained because Murderbot doesn't need to know or care about the details for it and the story to get the benefit.

Pin-Lee, my unexpected sci-fi hero!

[cherryrikis]

ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 002 ! inconveniently convenient

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note im trying to update as often as i can bc i start school in 2 days😭

previous <> masterlist <> next

with the manager’s permission, you and minji left the dorm to walk together to the local convenience store.

“look, they have an enhypen lucky draw event here.” she pointed out as you both walked past it by the entrance.

“can we get one on the way out?” your eyes lit up at the mention of it, while you followed minji down the produce aisle. “sure, why not.”

the two of you picked out a few snacks and some drinks for the dorm until you began making your way to the cash register to check out. “would you like to buy a bag today for 500 won?” the clerk asked with a cheerful tone. “yes please.”

“your total is 35,500 won. also- i don’t mean to intrude. but i am a big fan. you guys did so good performing at music bank today!” she encouraged.

“aw, thank you so much!” minji smiled with a wave, paying for the groceries before following you to the lucky draw machine.

you each pressed the button once, flipping the photocards over so you couldn’t see who you got. on the count of three, you both turned it over, revealing your pulls. you had gotten sunghoon, and minji had pulled riki.

“oh, it’s your boyfriend. here, keep it.” she teased with a smirk. but as soon as minji slightly looked at the person behind you, her face fell.

“wow. he’s pretty handsome.” a voice from behind you called out.

you were mortified. as soon as you turned around, you were met with none other than-

“-riki! poor yn. you’re scaring her!” jungwon frowned, lightly slapping riki’s arm with the back of his hand. “sorry about that.” he apologized on the younger boy’s behalf.

“no worries. i’m sorry. you really caught me off guard.” you smiled.

“suddenly i feel underdressed.” minji joked as she gestured to jungwon, who still hadn’t changed out the stage outfit he wore on music bank.

“oh, not at all. if anything, i’m overdressed.” he waved. “normally i’d change as soon as we get home, but practice ran late. and this one here was hogging the shower as soon as he was first inside the dorm.” jungwon nudged riki’s stomach.

while they became immersed in their own conversations, riki moved closer to you, wanting to engage with you as well.

“hey, good job today at mubank. nice to know you find me.. charming.” he winked.

“gosh. if i hear someone say music bank one more time, i might just die. it was awful.” you groaned.

“i thought it was pretty cute.” he shrugged.

“what are you guys doing here anyway?” you asked, changing the topic. “it’s pretty late.”

“oh. jungwon got the penalty to buy everyone food, since he was last to the dorms. but i came because he never knows where to find the japanese snacks. good thing i didn’t stay home though.” riki gestured to you who currently held his photocard in your card.

“sorry about today. i was really nervous..” you looked down, scratching the back of your neck.

he tilted his head in confusion, before using his hand to tilt your chin up. “yeah, no kidding. you were practically shaking the whole interview.” riki pouted.

you groaned as you suddenly felt shy yet again, beginning to bring your hand up to cover your face once more. only riki had held your wrist, bringing your arm down.

“stop avoiding me. it’s okay. we’re all like that at first.” he comforted.

and suddenly, you felt better.

“hey, we’re gonna go now.” jungwon informed. “let’s walk back together? i mean, we live in the same building anyway.”

surely, you were bound to be recognized. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. you laughed freely as riki joked with you, walking shoulder to shoulder together as minji and jungwon were a bit more ahead.

“you know, i was pretty nervous too. at the interview. to think that i got to be next to you, let alone have the yoon yn stare at me whenever i spoke? dream come true.” he clutched his chest, faking a fainting motion.

“you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” you rolled your eyes playfully.

“no, really. i’m dead serious. why do you think i kept making eye contact with you?”

and suddenly the world stopped spinning once more. you smiled as you felt riki’s arm wrap around your upper half, securing you as you walked towards the entrance of the building together.

you screamed into the pillow yet again, but this time, not out of embarrassment or fear.

“what’s going on?” hanni asked, coming out the bathroom with a sheet mask on.

she took a seat next to you and hyein on her bed, while minji, danielle, and haerin stayed on danielle’s bed.

“when we went to the store, we ran into jungwon and riki. they were talking to each other the entire time. jungwon and i saw them literally making heart eyes.” minji’s lips curled into a smirk, as she took a spoonful from her pudding cup.

“no kidding.. check this out!” hyein called out, gesturing for everyone to gather around her as she held out her phone.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @itzningning @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae

[fuctacles]

Changes

@genderthings ST Women's Day: bouquet T | 805 | Pre-Steddie | Transfem Eddie, coming out, canon adjacent, phone calls | I am not sponsored by Lego but they can call me wink wink | Ao3

"Hey, you're good at making gifts, right?"

"Who is this?"

For a second, Steve blanks, wondering if he's dialed the right number. But the voice in his ear sounds right. 

"Steve? Steve Harrington?"

"Dude, I haven't heard from you in forever."

"Come on, it's been a couple of months at best," Steve protests, but as he starts doing calculations in his head, it doesn't sound as short anymore. 

"Uh-huh, try half a year."

"Shit. Sorry, Eddie. Moving had been... a lot. Guess I've lost track of time. How's life?"

"A lot of work. We have a few labels interested in working with us, but we have to make a few more demos to get signed for an album. But it's... It's good, it feels good."

Steve smiles at the receiver, happy that another one of his friends is following his dreams. 

"That's great! I'm happy for you guys. We should meet up when you're less busy."

"Yeah, totally," Eddie agrees quickly. "I have something to tell you, actually."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I, uh... So much has changed, man. Different city, different life... It's not Hawkins anymore, you know"

"Tell me about it," Steve chuckles. 

"And I'm changing too. And I'm worried it might be too much."

Steve frowns. Change was always scary, and often meant someone would be left behind, usually him. But he soldiers on with a joke. 

"What, you got even more tattoos? Human painting style?"

"You bet your ass I did," Eddie laughs. 

"Well, Hawkins might hate it, but as long as you're happy, your friends will have your back. We didn't save the world for nothing, right?" 

"Right," he parrots. "So, what did you want to ask me?"

"Ah! Women's Day is coming up and I'm completely blank on what to give Robin."

"Dude." There's a shuffle in the other side, like Eddie changed his position to be more comfortable. "You're her weird cosmic bestie, shouldn't you know her best? How could I possibly be of service?"

"Well," Steve draws out the word, slumping against the wall. "She buys all the books she wants, she's against expensive clothes, we're stocked on candy for a year, and we have limited space. But she said she'd like something to decorate her room, make it more homey."

"Uh, a plant?" Eddie suggests. 

"Eddie. Would I be calling you if the answer was as simple as a plant."

"I'm guessing Buckley is a serial plant killer then."

"She murdered my basil plant and I haven't forgiven her yet."

Eddie snorts before making a loud hum.

"Alright then, well. A painting, a poster?"

"She already has so many posters," Steve groans. "I'm not sure there's even space left on the wall, not after she stole that huge Madonna one."

"I see the big city is doing her good, huh?"

"I need ideas."

"I don't know, man. You're close enough, get her a vibrator or something."

"Already got her one for Christmas."

It's Eddie's turn to groan.

"Just give her fake flowers, Jesu— wait. Does she like puzzles?"

"Uh, yeah? But we have nowhere to display them, so—"

"Did you know Lego has flower sets?"

"It was a great idea, thank you so much! I forgot how much fun it is."

Eddie laughs on the other end of the line. 

"I'm glad to be of help. What did you get?"

"A bonsai tree. It looks great."

"Good to know you're living my dream," he chuckles. 

"What do you mean?" Steve asks curiously, before flopping down on his bed for the conversation. 

"I fucking love Lego, but this shit is so expensive. And, don't tell anyone," Eddie lowers his voice. "But I do like flowers, and can't keep them alive neither."

"I'll keep that in mind," Steve chuckles. "Sooo, when will you be free to meet up?"

"When you said about changes, I didn't think you mean...."

"Tits?" Eddie finishes for him, her shoulders angling in to hide. "If you can even call them that."

"No, don't hide! They're—"

A smirk grows on Eddie's face. She might be wearing make up and style her hair differently, but her dimples are all the same.

"Yeah? How are my tits, Harrington?" she teases.

"Shut up," he grumbles. "You look good, okay? And you'll keep changing, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm aiming for a rack..." she forms her hands into cups in front of her chest. "...this big."

"Who'll pay for the chiropractor?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Uh, my rock star salary? Duh," she rolls her eyes. 

"Mom, I am a rich man?" 

"Exactly," Eddie grins at him.

On their way back, Steve pulls her into a florist's and buys a single rose. 

"For the Women's Day I've missed," he explains, handing it over with a wink.

Next year, Eddie gets two bouquets: live red roses and a sunflower Lego set.

tags: @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @wheneverfeasible

[mssoapart]

Day 7

Free-day (Out of order and late) Alenoah as Sherlock/Moriarty.

I like it when two characters play mind games and scheming against or with each other.

I didn`t plan to create an AU, but – my rant and bits of literature/character analysis (The Vision). Also, draw concept sketch.

Noah (Detective Sherlock Holmes). I mean, they're both geniuses, introverts who don't care about social opinion and some versions depicted him as being good with dogs. In Victorian England, I totally see Noah opening a detective agency, because you either go working on a plant or you might use your geniuses’ intelligence to solve crimes, like game puzzles, and make monies to pay bills and buy new books because in 1800 many books were expensive and produced in small quantities.

Plus! I might look at this too far, but I think the Sherlock and Watson analogy was implemented in London episode when they strip team Chris just to Noah and Owen for investigation.

Owen (Dr. Watson). Basically in the original books, Watson plays the role of the guy, your typical visual novel MC, well narrator, who has character, but his whole purpose is just to be a witness to detectives doing, asking questions for the audience. This leads to usually representing Watson as either annoyed with Sherlock's antics or (usually in kids' media) naïve but with good intentions because of this simplification, to show his kindhearted nature in cartoons and caricatures he is portrayed as chubby, which is what we need! But all of them did service in the Anglo-Afghan War, even Disney version mentioned it. (Also if you want to do Nowen version of Jhonlock I don`t mind, sure go for it)

Alejandro (professor Moriarty). Do I really need to explain? Both archvillains in their stories. Professor, respected in society for his talent and achievements, wealthy, but behind all of that façade he`s "Napoleon of crime". He doesn’t usually do crimes himself but rather, schemes, orchestrates the events, or provides the plans that will lead to a successful crime, like paying money to a court so that someone can be released from prison.

Heather (Irene Adler). OK, in the original books (all books written not by Arthur Conan Doyle are basically fanfics) her character and Sherlock don`t date (But if you like, it`s fine). She was more like “I know what you are” towards him.  I want to base it more on Warner Bros Sherlock where Irene works with Moriarty, but they also try to get rid of each other. She is also famous for blackmailing royals, If it isn`t most Heather thing I don`t know what is.

Eva (Mrs. Hudson). The landlady. I think it would be funny, she yelling at them to pay their bills in time.

See you next week

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I don't remember if Harry is a Morning person or not, I feel like he is pretty grumpy

Well, I ended up writing about Harry's sleep habits in general since it was interesting to me, so you're getting a little more than you bargained for here.

Harry is often mentioned waking up early. He is probably used to it from the Dursleys and whenever he's excited or anxious even more so:

Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s robes — he’d change on the train. 

(PS, Ch6)

Harry woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. He was nervous, mainly at the thought of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. 

(CoS, Ch10)

Harry woke early next morning, wrapped in a sleeping bag on the drawing room floor. A chink of sky was visible between the heavy curtains: It was the cool, clear blue of watered ink, somewhere between night and dawn, and everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione’s slow, deep breathing. Harry glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside him.

(DH, Ch10)

When he's nervous or anxious he also struggles to fall asleep to begin with, and doesn't sleep a lot at all:

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Neville was snoring loudly, but Harry couldn’t sleep. He tried to empty his mind — he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours — but the expression on Snape’s face when Harry had seen his leg wasn’t easy to forget.

(PS, Ch11)

A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they’d ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the House Cup. Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. How could they ever make up for this? Harry didn’t sleep all night.

(PS, Ch15)

“Harry, you — you look terrible.” Harry hadn’t gotten to sleep until daybreak. 

(PoA, Ch11)

He thought of the letter he had written to Sirius before leaving Privet Drive. Would Sirius have gotten it yet? When would he reply? Harry lay looking up at the canvas, but no flying fantasies came to him now to ease him to sleep, and it was a long time after Charlie’s snores filled the tent that Harry finally dozed off.

(GoF, Ch9)

Feeling disappointed, Harry threw the book back into his trunk, turned off the lamp, and rolled over, thinking of werewolves and Snape, Stan Shunpike and the Half-Blood Prince, and finally falling into an uneasy sleep full of creeping shadows and the cries of bitten children. ...

(HBP, Ch16)

Harry did not sleep well that night. He lay awake for what felt like hours, wondering how Malfoy was using the Room of Requirement and what he, Harry, would see when he went in there the following day

(HBP, Ch21)

And he seems to get up and get ready immediately when he gets up, he doesn't dwindle in bed and struggles to wake up:

Harry woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he’d have lunch, when someone yelled his name and he turned.

(PoA, Ch4)

Even when he is startled awake by something happening:

Harry woke as suddenly as though he’d been hit in the face. Disoriented in the total darkness, he fumbled with his hangings — he could hear movements around him, and Seamus Finnigan’s voice from the other side of the room: “What’s going on?”

(PoA, Ch13)

Early next morning, Harry woke with a plan fully formed in his mind, as though his sleeping brain had been working on it all night. He got up, dressed in the pale dawn light, left the dormitory without waking Ron, and went back down to the deserted common room.

(GoF, Ch15)

And he doesn't really sleep in late (unless he didn't sleep at all the night before, which happens a few times). At least not that I could find. The only time he seems to be sleepy and wants to stay in bed lazily I could find is when he is given a dreamless sleep potion:

Harry took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. He felt himself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around him became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at him in a friendly way through the screen around his bed; his body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather matress. Before he could finish the potion, before he could say another word, his exhaustion had carried him off to sleep. Harry woke up, so warm, so very sleepy, that he didn’t open his eyes, wanting to drop off again. The room was still dimly lit; he was sure it was still nighttime and had a feeling that he couldn’t have been asleep very long.

(GoF, Ch36)

It also seems that once he's awake (even if very early) Harry struggles falling back asleep:

Harry fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now that he was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls, and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In a few hours he would be out on the Quidditch field, battling through that gale. Finally, he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand, and walked quietly out of the dormitory.

(PoA, Ch9)

And all of this makes sense. Trauma and PTSD can affect sleep very negatively. Since OotP, Harry has many uneasy, nightmare-filled nights:

Harry had a troubled night’s sleep. 

(OotP, Ch10)

In the meantime, he had nothing to look forward to but another restless, disturbed night, because even when he escaped nightmares about Cedric he had unsettling dreams about long dark corridors, all finishing in dead ends and locked doors, which he supposed had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake. 

(OotP, Ch1)

After two nights of little sleep, Harry’s senses seemed more alert than usual.

(DH, Ch19)

Actually, the nightmares and restless nights are there prior to OotP too, this kid is so traumatized:

Harry wished he could forget what he’d seen in the mirror as easily, but he couldn’t. He started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter.

(PS, Ch13)

As I mentioned, Harry doesn't sleep well when he's anxious, stressed, or excited, and for this kid, it's basically always. So, I think Harry tends to wake up on the earlier side of things and is capable of functioning decently (if angrier) on little to no sleep.

Since I was looking for info on Harry's sleep, apparently, depending on the position he falls asleep in, he snores, loudly:

Harry Potter was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with one side of his face pressed against the cold windowpane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide open.

(HBP, Ch3)

(As a general note, Ron and Neville snore too)

[voxslays]

WUTIWANT — HWANG IN-HO & GI-HUN

PART ONE — ARRIVAL SUMMARY: After playing a game of Ddakji with a tall, mysterious man in a subway, you find yourself scared and alone—trapped in a series of deadly games with people who don’t speak your language. WARNINGS: Reader is American, Gi-hun & In-ho both speak English. A/N: Based on a request by @wheezdostuff, which I apologize it took so long! Your request was so detailed I decided to turn it into a series! In your request, you said that any characters were fine, so I hope these two are okay!

The cold wind nipped at your soft skin. It was a chilly October evening in Seoul. You had only arrived in the city a month earlier, deciding to explore the world while you still had a chance. You had always wanted to visit Korea, even since you were a child. Whether it was the flashy k-pop idols, or the bright city lights, it always had a peculiar way of drawing you in.

Waiting for your train, you sit down on one of the benches, smiling to yourself as you pull out your phone. You quickly click on your messages, hoping to get a message from Ae-cha, the loan shark who was responsible for your ease in traveling to Seoul—but there was none. That’s odd, you think to yourself.

You hear footsteps walking towards you, as someone sits on the same small, wooden bench you are. Yet, you don’t look up from your phone until you hear the figure mutter an “Excuse me.” In English. He must’ve been able to tell you were American. “Yes?” You say respond Korean, trying your hardest to remember all the lessons and phrases that Duolingo had taught you.

The man chuckles as you slowly take a better glance at him. He was tall, with an attractive face, reminiscent of a model you once saw in an American magazine many years ago. He wears a simple navy suit, and sets his black briefcase in the middle of the bench. A salesman, huh? “May I talk to you?” He asks politely.

“Sorry, but I’m not interested in buying anything.” You say, trying to return his politeness. The man sighs. “It’s not that.” He puts his hands on his knees and leans closer to you. “Would you like to play a game with me?” He asks. “What kind of game?” The salesman chuckles. “Ddakji.” You give him a confused frown. “What’s that?” If it weren’t obvious you were a foreigner before, it was blatantly clear now.

The man smirks, before a large smile appears on his face. “Ddakji is a traditional children’s game.” He opens his briefcase, revealing stacks of money, followed by folded red and blue paper squares. “Now, would you like to play?” As if sensing your hesitance, he quickly adds, “I’ll pay you 100,000 won every time you flip my tile.”

Before you knew it, you were smacking your tile down against his with some difficulty, yet, you managed to flip his blue tile a total of three times. Not bad for a beginner. The salesman handed you your 300,000 won and a small yellow business card with three shapes on it; The circle, the triangle, and the square.

“Call that number if you want to play again.” He smiles, before walking off. If you could make this much money so easily, maybe you should call the number. You turn over the card, the numbers read ‘624-874’. You quickly pull out your phone and call the number, giving them your registry information—your name and date of birth. What’s the worst that could happen?

You wouldn’t find out until you woke up in a sterile room, with hundreds of bunk beds. There was a catchy children’s turn playing in the background, completely in Korean. As you look around you, people begin to stir, just as confused in their surroundings as you are. Where the hell were you? And why had you called that number.

As the masked pink men walked into the cramped ‘dormitory,’ and started speaking, you knew you were screwed. Why? They were speaking in Korean.

[luvvyouforever]

vampire!emily prentiss

you are mine, you shall be mine, you and i are one for ever. ꨄ

-carmilla, sheridan le fanu

content: vampire au, wlw imagined when writing, lowk sugar mommy dynamic, sex, possessive, blood, feeding.

𖤐 uses her immortality to enjoy all that life has to offer. indulges in expensive trips, luxurious fabrics, international delicacies, and art collection. her home is always beautiful no matter where she lives and becomes her own personal museum. probably has storage units around the world holding her keepsakes.

𖤐 works for fun rather than for money. creates new lives for herself when she gets bored with one. essentially builds an entire character and lives as her in some new place. will change her hair or her entire style so she's not recognized.

𖤐 if she had some way to just ethically source blood like premade bags or something along those lines, she would. but if those options aren't available, she will feed and drain the worst, almost like a vigilante.

𖤐 she is suchhhh a seductress, luring people in for pleasure and company easily. all she has to do is attend an event dressed to the nines and lean against a table before she has people crawling to her.

𖤐 when she meets you, she's entranced immediately. thinks about you all night long, dreaming of touching your skin and brushing your hair away and feeling your lips on hers. she tries not to let herself wonder what your blood tastes like but she can't help it when you're close and she can smell it.

𖤐 spoils you to no end, but makes sure she's buying you the best of the best. she's so good at being rich and enjoying luxury that she practically has to teach you. she shows you what expensive fabrics feel like and makes some expensive drink for you saying this is the only way you can enjoy vodka.

𖤐 i think she confesses to you that she's a vampire rather than you finding it out in some dramatic fashion. she feels herself becoming more attached to you and she's lived so long that she knows it's better to be upfront about it to keep you.

𖤐 i like to think that if there was some way to have you eternally and let you live alongside her for the rest of her life, she would want that, but she would make sure you're really sure. eternity is not what everyone makes it out to be, she says. but she would be so heartbroken if you said no, knowing she has to watch you age.

𖤐 loves teasing you by dragging her sharp teeth along your skin, sending shivers down your entire body as you think about how powerful she is, what she's truly capable of. enjoys making you come completely undone for her.

𖤐 she has so much experience and knows exactly what to do to make your body sing for her. she can draw it out for an entire night, keeping you down on the bed, making you finish around her till you're a babbling mess. or she can take you against the kitchen counter quickly, having you leave for work in record time.

𖤐 is very possessive and claiming of you. she gets angry at someone's touch against you, even more so if they've been so close to you that she can smell them. licks along your neck, muttering 'mine' the whole way up.

𖤐 will totally gift you something that makes it glaringly clear that you're taken. she'll gift you a locket with her initial carved into it, or an ornate ring she picked up centuries ago. you wear it with pride, so happy to have been gifted something beautiful, but she's smirking as she feels her possessiveness quelled a little bit.

freaky vampire blood stuff below i'm sorry (no i'm not):

𖤐 it would take multiple conversations for her to be comfortable with feeding from you. she likes strict boundaries and open discussion and prioritizes your health over anything. she informs you about how you're gonna feel, how the process will work, everything. when she receives another confirmation from you, she can't help but feel excited that she finally gets to taste you.

𖤐 the first time she does it, she makes it an intimate experience as if it was your first time having sex. makes it dark in the room, lays you down on the plush bed and crawls on top of you. she asks for permission one more time and when you readily give it to her, she bends down and gently seeks her teeth into your neck.

𖤐 from that moment, she's obsessed. she dreams about your taste and craves it all the time. but if nothing, she's great at self-control. she holds herself off until you've recovered, then she will practically crawl to you, begging for another taste. it's the most submissive you've ever seen her.

𖤐 she lost her mind when, as she was about to cum during sex, you lifted your neck, offering her the perfect spot to sink her mouth onto. she finishes just at the moment that your blood fills her. she never wants to leave your side.

[twilightsumu]

how to create a love story | k. akaashi

chapter three: maybe he smells you through the screen?

synopsis: yn finds akaashi and sends him a follow. atsumu buys a hard hat off SHEIN. kenma (with the help of kuroo) and oikawa unknowingly play against each other in a dti sever.

warning/genre: smau, modern au, kms joke, yn has ibs :/, talks of violence (nothing serious i promise lol), taxes

a/n: #ibswarrior

“and when you find this akaashi person, who i believe is a little bit of a creep if i may add,” atsumu is standing outside your front door with a drill and the new security system that came in. “… you’re going to do what exactly?” 

kiyoomi is sitting next to you on the couch as you stroll through your secret mission on twitter. you could feel omi’s annoyance and when you look up to him and see that his eyebrows are raised and his fist clenched on his thighs, you already knew.

“we’re so not getting our security deposit back,” he mutters as you both watch atsumu assault the front door. “if you’re going to be late with your portion of the rent, why didn’t you just pay the extra to have the company set it up?” he says a little louder. 

“because i am a,” he stops what he is doing and points the drill at you two, “a man.” he adds air quotation marks on the last word. 

“so… are you one or not?” you ask, going back to your phone to look for a certain someone. 

“he’s a fucking moron,” kiyoomi mutters. 

“okay enough of the gender studies lecture,” atsumu yells over the drill, the splintering of the wood from our doorframe is just as loud. “what are you going to do when you find this akaashi?” 

“not bring him here. i don’t need anyone sketching me,” kiyoomi says, you feel him shift on the couch turning away from watching atsumu helping us kiss our security deposit away. 

“well, you know i have been wanting to create a manga..” 

you look up from your search when you hear the drill stop and no snarky comment following the silence. they both just stare at you. atsumu with a drill in his hand and kiyoomi with a raised eyebrow and bored look. 

“anyways, i have been wanting to find someone who’ll do the art and i would do the story, obviously,” you shrug. “i never wanted to be a publisher, it just happened because i couldn’t do this.”

“so the creepy sketch of you fits in where?” atsumu says, turning his attention to the single paper of instruction the security system came with. 

“why not just go to the local college and take drawing classes?” kiyoomi adds. 

“well akaashi’s sketch is great and closer to anything i ever envisioned for the art style i would want for my manga. no amount of classes could help me draw as well as he did in that sketch,” atsumu moves into the house, drill in hand and a look of confusion on his face. 

kiyoomi and you ignore him. 

“so my plan is to find him and ask to work with me to create something.” you finish. 

“and when he says no?” kiyoomi says, rolling his eyes when atsumu barges back into the hallway to take a look at the front door. 

“why would he say no?” 

“also, you saw one sketch,” atsumu tells from outside, the drill starting again. 

“nope, his friend, that bo guy posts all of his drawings,” you shrug. you were searching through bokuto’s twitter media to see if he has any pictures where he tagged this mysterious akaashi. 

“so… you haven’t checked his friend’s following for an akaashi?” atsumu bellows and you almost feel stupid how it slipped your mind to check the literal following list. 

“wow atsumu, what the hell do you think im doing?” you run to bokuto’s following and start swiping through. 

@/kenma

@/kurooh

@/hinatashoyo

@/bigstepperbo

@/taxes4you

@/taxeshelp

@/taxesworkshop

@/axebodyspray

@/levhiba

@/kakaashi

“WAIT I THINK FOUND HIM! K AKAASHI!!” you click on the last user and you’re met with a private account, but with much squinting to your phone… the icon of this so called akaashi made some butterflies erupt in your stomach. he was cute, really cute. totally does not look like a stalker who wears a trench coat and fedora and follows you from your morning gym class to the train. 

“…but he’s private,” you instantly click on the request button. a little excitement running through your body. it felt as if you just sent your college application in again for the first time. 

“mhm so the creep vibe has swapped,” kiyoomi sighs, reaching for his phone on the table in front of us. 

“when he follows you back, tell him he needs to pay for this security system,” atsumu blurted over the drill. you shook your head, a slight headache coming in from the constant drilling. “also kiyoomi order pizza for dinner please please.”

taglist: @nscuit, @porty, @accidentpronedork, @x3nafix, @vivian-555, @sexylexy12, @luvinazaki, @idontevenknow129, @folksmione, @thatmf-jay, @90s-belladonna, @kurooooow, @akaashislovee, @bows4life, @yimmybread, @stwberri, @ningninjas, @v3nusplanetofluv

©twilightsumu all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[lotusarchon]

together ^-^ (mk x reader)

requested from ao3 by Kazumel: Maybe an MK x g/n reader (It can be platonic, totally up to you!) that suffers from partial hearing loss due to a childhood accident? Always nice to see some MK lmao

content warnings: gender neutral reader, second pov (you/your), light angst (referring to the accident), mentioned/implied injury, sfw, fluff, relationship is up to interpretation but mk is implied to have feelings for reader, drabble, childhood best friends

author's notes: fun fact, I cannot hear in my left ear unless someone yells in it and I still have no idea why. Been like this since I was a kid but I also remember little me used to like shoving shit down my earhole so maybe something stuck and now I'm half deaf...

The first time MK meets you, he's seven years old running after a rubber ball that Pigsy's bought for him. It's not the coolest toy at the playground, not compared to the other children with their colorful toys, but it's special to him regardless ― it's golden, with the Monkey King's signature symbol imprinted on it, though it's faded with use and time. Pigsy had saved up for it, buying the last one in stock just for him, and it's been his favorite toy since.

He's alone, as the memory goes, because MK hadn't been a very social child back then. He's just too quiet, too different, and the children avoid him.

“They're also stuck up brats who think you're too poor to play with,” Pigsy had grunted unhappily the first time MK had asked. “Don't pay them any attention, kid. They ain't know what they're missing out anyway.”

So MK thinks, and he kicks his ball towards a faded red pole. It's his favorite spot to play―not too far from Pigsy, but also not too close, and it avoids the other children playing. The pole acts as his friend, bouncing the ball back to him with each kick.

Except that this time, it's different. Because his ball doesn't hit the pole as he wants, but someone else.

That someone had been you.

MK remembers panicking on the spot. The ball had hit you square on the face, and you had tumbled and fallen onto your back. Frightened out of his wits, the poor boy had run wailing back to Pigsy about his “crime”, whereupon the pig demon had found you, breathed a sigh of relief that you weren't badly injured, and offered your parent a free meal as an apology.

He remembers, as the adults sit in Pigsy's small restaurant outside, sticking his finger into your mouth, poking at your gums. And you had done the same, ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘aah-ing’ at the sight of his pointy fangs that pricked your fingers.

The rest of the evening, it's spent with you both gushing about your favorite show―it seems you're a fan of the new Monkey King series that came out last year, but your favorite is a character with not enough screentime. Erlang, is it? Whatever, you still like the same show, and MK likes talking with you. 

One visit becomes two, three, and so forth, so forth. You're his favorite person, his best friend, even. Your dad had no problem arranging playdates, and even offered Pigsy once to keep him (MK) for the night, if only to grant the pig demon some reprieve with work. 

MK really, really likes you. He likes that you like playing with him, and he likes that you're one of the first people who admires his drawings and defends him against the mean kids in the playground.

But then, one day, you're not there. And MK doesn't know what to do.

He goes home to cry to Pigsy. Had a demon stolen you away? Or maybe, you had grown tired of him, as the children promised you would?

“It's okay, kid. We'll see (Name) tomorrow, okay? Don't cry.”

So he finds himself in a hospital, clutching a bowl of cookies Pigsy bought for you. He sticks to his dad and trails behind him, grimacing at the blinding white walls and the squeaky clean tiles which is so different compared to the familiar old floorboards of your homes. 

He isn't allowed to see you at first. You're sleeping, with so many scary things attached to you. Your dad insists you'll be fine, but he thinks he's lying, because if you really would be fine, why would he be crying anyway?

But MK obediently promises Pigsy to listen, and he goes home and waits, and waits….

It's a month before you return again, looking sick, but also…better. Your dad stays downstairs to talk with Pigsy, and he gets to bring you to his bedroom, to watch the new episodes of Monkey Cop.

He doesn't ask, of course. Pigsy made him promise not to be rude, even if he's curious and wants to know really badly why you were sleeping in a hospital, or why one of your ears has cotton inside, or why you wince when he tries to touch it.

“There there.” He tries to say instead, patting your hand like Pigsy does for him. “Don't be sad. I'm here, okay?”

MK smiled as the memory faded in his mind. His gaze drifted towards you over the top of his cards, your expression one of pure focus as you try to determine which card you would need to win this round.

To be honest, it took an embarassingly long time for him to realize what had happened to you, and why from then on, you couldn't hear from one of your ear. Actually, had it not been for you both running into the ever-so intelligent Mei back then, he probably would've lived the rest of his life utterly confused.

Your accident meant that a lot of kids acted strangely around you back then. Why that was, even he wouldn't know, but he at least had promised you that no matter what, he would remain by your side.

And he meant it, didn't he? Sixteen years later, you were still his very best friend (well, next to Mei at least), and he wouldn't trade you for the world….

“Ha! I win!” You threw your cards before you, all aces. The corners of your eyes crinkled as you smiled, eyes gleaming with glee and pride at your victory, and for a moment, MK felt a slight warmth spreading through his body.

“Oh.” He smiled, hiding his own cards. “Guess I lost again, huh?”,

You laughed, a beautiful sound, and leaned forward to pat his shoulder. “Hey, it's not your fault I'm amazing.” You chuckled, flicking his forehead affectionately. “Next time, I'll go easy on you, alright?”

MK only hoped his blush wasn't too visible on his face. He cleared his throat and nodded with a smile.

“Fine, fine,” he pretended to relent. “One more game. Winner buys the loser dinner?”

“Shouldn't it be the other way around?”

“.....no….?”

“Broke ass.”

@lotusarchon , 12.03.2025, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[organic-bloodbath]

Lobotomy: kills & kisses

Episode I: Rumors

Chishiya x Reader x Niragi

Summary: You have been in a mental asylum for months, mostly minding your own business. You hear a few rumors going around the asylum.

A/N: First chapter of the Asylum!AU series. The first few chapters happen in the asylum, until they move into the Beach. I'll have the next two chapters from Chishiya & Niragi's POV. I'm getting obsessed with all the plans i've come up with for this.

♤ List of Chapters ♤

You hadn’t said a word since the day you tried to murder your brother.

No, he wasn’t your brother. That’s just what everyone claimed. What the court said, trying to convince the jury — and succeeded. Everyone tried to convince he was your brother, but he wasn’t. You weren’t a fool, didn't buy the act that he was pulling on everyone. How dumb were they to believe him.

You recognized a spy when you saw one, and if you didn’t kill him, he’d get you killed. It was self-defense, even if he didn't have a weapon on him at the time. Nobody believed you, so he was still walking free and could start tormenting someone else. Ruin someone else’s life. You had failed and had to only hope someone else was strong enough to get him out of the way.

He wasn’t your brother, he was only wearing the skin of him. Your brother was dead, killed and buried somewhere. His body hadn’t been found, but he was dead and gone forever. You just knew.

Right now, you were sitting on the floor, back against the padded wall. Your arms were restrained, wrapped around you in the straitjacket. You weren't aware how long you had been in that room, losing the track of time. There were no windows, so it could be either a day or night - you simply didn't know. You were alone but at the same time anything else than alone. Shadows were moving on the walls, all around you. Whispers in your ears, almost feeling a breath tingling against your skin.

Not real.

Not real.

Not real.

Not.

Real.

NO.

Or was it real after all?

You had fallen asleep for a moment. It could have been anything between 15 minutes and five hours. But as you opened your eyes, you weren’t alone.

A man was sitting on the opposite side of the room. His head was bleeding, half of it dyed red by the hit of an axe on his skull.

He stared at you, no emotion in his eyes. There should have been at least a glimpse of anger at some level, but there wasn’t. Sadness? Pain? Disappointment? Nothing. Just numbness.

Your throat was dry and right now you wanted nothing more than just have a glass of cold water. You threw your head back against the padded wall and closed your eyes. He’d be gone when you’d open them again, there would be no sign of him anymore.

And you were alone again, for a moment.

You were now sitting in a room among other patients, drawing a picture on a paper and minding your own business in silence. After being thrown into the solitary treatment, sitting in complete silence with nobody around you, your ears felt more sensitive to the sounds and voices around you than normally. Sure, you heard voices even when nobody was around, but it was different. The voices of real people were totally different to the ones inside your head.

The drawing represented a man and dark shadow, ripping the man’s guts out. The shadow had been haunting you for years, in some way or another, and you couldn’t get rid of it. You had never found an answer what it exactly seemed to be, so you only called it a Shadow. If people owned a default hallucination which repeated over and over again, never leaving their side, sticking on their skin like glue - this Shadow would be yours.

Your psychiatrist told you to draw what you saw. What you felt. Heard. And apparently you could work with that during your sessions which were completely useless. What were you supposed to get out of them? To get better because you had someone you could talk to and someone who would listen to you? But you didn’t talk, not a word. So, instead you drew. What was the point of talking anyway, opening up to someone, when all she would hear was your words and not the actual meaning behind them? She wouldn’t understand you even if you did talk, so why bother?

Nobody believed you. Everyone only thought you were insane. You knew you weren’t.

“This seat taken?” a male voice asked, standing on the opposite side of your table which had normally had six chairs but now only three. You had thrown the other three away because you didn’t want anyone to sit close to you. Not next to you or in front of you. You had arranged the chairs like a chessboard, enough space between each other as if you’d catch a virus from another patient.

You removed your gaze from the paper for a short moment and looked up at the man. He was young with black hair and a few piercings on his face. There had been a few patients who had their piercings removed when they arrived here, so you assumed this man wasn’t completely nuts. Why had they removed piercings from some of the patients after a short analysis of their personality and how fucked up they were? Because one of them stabbed his eyes with his nose piercing, just because a voice told him to make himself blind or otherwise he’d be taken hostage by a mafia — or something like that.

You examined the man’s face and figure for a moment until resumed to drawing, ignoring him.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said and sat down. You preferred to stay by yourself but you couldn’t take all the space just for yourself, you knew that.

You stayed silent, not giving him any kind of answer.

“That's a pretty cool picture. You an artist or something?”

No answer. Just give up and be quiet if you're not planning to leave already, you thought.

"So you're one of the quiet ones," he analysed and crossed his arms as he leaned back against his chair. "Alright, a challenge then."

The fuck did he want from you?

"Who does it represent?" he asked, nodding towards the paper. "Dad? Brother? Hm, an ex of yours?"

You grabbed another paper and wrote a few words on it with large letters, then sliding the paper against the table to him.

YOU IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP

He chuckled a little when he read it and then made a short eye contact with you. You tried to make sure with the expression on your face that you were dead serious, then turning back to drawing.

“Alright, sorry I asked,” he apologized and threw his hands in the air, an amused smile playing on his chapped lips.

You could feel his eyes on you, scanning you with his intense gaze, but you simply tried to ignore him, concentrating on using the red crayon to color the blood in the drawing.

“Could I borrow a paper from you?” the man asked, nodding towards the pile of papers you had hoarded for yourself, there was at least ten of them. You never knew how much you wanted to draw and whether you needed to start completely over. “Come on, one paper and crayon.”

You slid one piece of paper and a blue crayon to him, not removing your gaze from your drawing.

“Aw, why blue? I want the green one,” he whined, making you roll your eyes. You picked up the green crayon and threw it in the air, not caring where it would land, but he managed to catch it before it would hit his face. “Aren’t you a sweetheart.”

Then, he fell silent for a while, starting to draw something as well. You were slightly curious what he was drawing, since you had never seen him to draw before, he did always something else during your free time, but you didn’t want to stare too long in case he would notice it and start to talk even more.

When you had finished your drawing, you looked around the room while wondering what to do next.

A young man was sitting on a wheelchair, just looking outside the window, the sun shining brightly on his face. He was on that spot every day, all day, not responding to anything around him. Not when someone talked to him. Not after some sort of treatment he was taken to one day. A treatment everyone was whispering about these days, although you weren’t aware of any specific details about it.

Before that day, he had talked and talked more than anyone else here and wouldn’t shut up. There were several times where you would have wanted to push your fist into his mouth and break his jaw, just to shut him up. Now? He didn’t even make an eye contact with anyone and couldn’t eat without someone’s help. If someone stood in front of him and he seemed to look at them, he’d only look through them, not comprehending majority of things that happened around him.

You’d rather die than fall into that kind of state for god know’s how long. For days, weeks — forever.

“I want to go back, I want to go back,” an old man mumbled at the table next to you, holding his head in his hands, leg bouncing in a fast pace. He had his eyes closed and brows scrunched together, ripping his short hair like he was trying to pull the strands off. “Let me go back, I want to play the games again.”

“Sir, it’s time for you to go to your room,” a nurse said with a gentle voice, leaning towards the man. There was still free time for another hour before the patients would have to return to their rooms, but the man was clearly about to cause a scene soon.

“No,” he muttered, hitting himself on the head, hand curled up in a fist. “No, no, no. I can’t. I want to go back to the Beach.” He grabbed the nurse’s hand now, looking at her with pleading eyes. His grip on her hand was tight, too tight, seeing how she winced in pain and tried to push him off but wasn’t able to escape his grip. “Take me back! Please!”

Two other nurses rushed to the scene to get the patient off the young nurse.

“Sir, come with us now,” a male nurse commanded with a stern voice, taking a hold on his shoulder, pulling him up.

“You don’t understand!” he shouted, so loud that everyone in the room turned to look at him. “I need to go back! I want to play the games again! I’m not supposed to be here!”

The three nurses dragged the man away, ignoring the kicks and hits he tried to make on them.

“Let me go! The games aren’t over yet! The face cards —” were the last words that echoed along the corridor.

You had heard him talking something about these “games” before but didn’t know many details about the games he was referring to.

You flinched when an edge of a paper hit your elbow. The pierced man had slid the paper back to you, along with the crayon. You furrowed your eyebrows as you examined the drawing. It was a building, which you assumed to represent the asylum, windows being covered in bars, and two stick figures outside, sun shining and bright smiles on the faces of the figures.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He got up from his chair and was about to leave you alone, but as he was walking past you, he gently laid his hand on your shoulder and leaned down to whisper into your ear, “I know a way out of here, sunshine. When you’re ready to talk, come and find me.”

His words made chills travel down your spine. Then, he was gone.

A way out of here? You looked down at the drawing, two people free from this place. Was he planning to escape from this place? If that was the case, why was he approaching you, out of all the other patients here? He didn’t know you — did he?

You returned to your own room, a nurse coming after you.

“Take these now,” she said and handed two pills and a glass of cold water for you.

You held the pills on your palm, staring at their shapes and colors, holding the glass in your other hand.

That’s poison,

Poison. You’re going to die.

Don’t swallow it.

Don’t

Don’t

You’ll die

She wants you to die.

D I E

“Come on, miss,” the nurse urged when you had zoned out. “It’s alright. The same ones you’ve had before.”

You hadn’t died by far after taking these, why would you die now? They looked the exact same but what if they really were poison instead of the medicine you were prescribed to? You were showing no progress of getting better, it had been several months since you arrived here. The staff had to become tired of having to take care of you and force feed the pills to you every morning and evening. Of course they’d prefer that you’d be gone. One pest less to look after. It would be easy to claim it as a suicide anyway if the doctor was following the plan as well.

They would never show any kind of grief over dead patients. They didn't care.

“Please, miss, you have to take them,” she pleaded with a soft voice. She was much nicer than the nurse you usually had forcing the pills on you. The nurse in front of you was young and too kind to be in a place like this. She looked like she was fresh out of college, excited of getting her first real job. You wanted to scare her bad enough that she’d quit before this place would drain her soul too. She had no idea what she was truly getting involved in.

When anyone arrived to this asylum, they were never going to leave. Were you a patient or a member of the staff, this place wouldn’t let you leave easily the longer you’d stay.

Maybe you should die.

Worthless, you’re worthless.

D

I

E

Your hand was shaking as you put the pills on your tongue and let the water wash them down your throat. The nurse took the glass and told you to open your mouth and roll your tongue around, checking if you had truly swallowed them or just tried to fake it — which you had done before and was then forced to swallow them.

The nurse left you alone, locking the door behind you. You laid yourself on the bed, lying on the mattress on your left side, facing the wall. You felt a shadow right behind you, so you closed your eyes and tried to ignore it the best you could.

You pressed your hands against your ear, as hard as you possibly could, to muffle the sounds but they only grew stronger the harder you pressed.

Die in your sleep now.

Poison in your veins.

PARALYZE.

DIE.

Better to everyone.

G O B E.

O D Y

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled against the pillow, gritting your teeth together with more pressure. “Shut up!”

You weren’t sure what medicine they fed you these days, but it sure didn’t work on you like intended — at all. The voices seemed to get even louder day by day, as if you were swallowing them inside you in a pill form, welcoming them in like an old friend.

The next day you had an appointment with your psychiatrist, Doctor Kano, and sat down alone in a room with her. She had her black hair pulled in a tight bun as usual, her bangs half covering her eyebrows. At first glance, she looked kind and sweet, eager to offer any kind of help to her patients to make them feel better, but you knew her heart was rotten.

“Since your treatments haven’t worked, we’ve come to conclusion to try another treatment on you soon, like with some other patients too,” she explained. “Have you heard of a lobotomy?”

That shit where they hammer an ice pick into your eye socket? No fucking thank you.

“You’ve been taken in solitary confinement in total of ten times during the past month,” she said, as if you needed a reminder. You were well aware of that, counting the times as well in your mind. Comparing the number to the previous months, creating statistics in your brain. Just for fun and curiosity to see whether you were getting better or worse. “We must take further measures to treat you since you don’t seem to get any better.”

I’d rather get killed than get stabbed in the eye and turned into a fucking vegetable. They wouldn’t make you better, they’d only make it all worse. No, just worse for you and better for them.

“Y/N, we only want the best for you and to help you,” she lied with such a kind and warm smile that someone naive and innocent would have probably believed her words to be sincere, but you knew better. She couldn’t fool you. In the beginning, you might have believed her and found slight comfort in her kind words but now? You knew she was no good and the same kind of trash as everyone else working here.

She’s just a lying skunk.

You didn’t answer anything, but she had learned to read your body language and behavior well enough during the past eight months to know that you wouldn’t be very cooperative with the treatment — a decision that was already made for you. They had never given you a chance to refuse a treatment, no. You did what they told you and ate what they gave you. If you resisted, you’d just end up back in the padded room again.

She doesn’t want you to get better.

They all just like to torture people.

You weren’t going to become a puppet they could experiment on however they wanted. You had to start taking action before it’d be too late, but you had no idea where to even start.

You had realized after some amount of time being here that the entire place ran on the labor of the patients — except for the food and actually taking somewhat care of the patients. Though the care was limited to forcing the pills down their throat, keep meaningless psychiatric appointments once a week and throwing the patients into a padded room whenever they’d start throwing a tantrum.

For the work the staff made the patients do, everyone was randomly divided in different groups. You were put among the people doing the laundry which included the clothes and bed sheets. You worked there three times a week. The other job you had was cleaning different rooms - the bathrooms were especially nasty which you hated more than anything, so the laundry days were your favorites.

Right now, you were in a dim room with no windows, folding clean clothes and bed sheets on neat piles. There were a lot of them to fold and put aside. The air here was awful, feeling like breathing dust into your lungs, and there was definitely mold in the corners of this room.

You had no problem of handling the laundry when they were clean but putting the dirty ones into the washing machines was nasty – some of the bed sheets and pants were covered in urine, shit or menstrual blood.

At the moment there was supposed to be four people doing this job but you were left with only one other patient, a young man with blond hair whose name you didn't know. To be fair, you didn't know most of the people's names here. The two other patients had been here at first but had suddenly disappeared somewhere. Until you heard some noise in the closet nearby.

Moaning and grunting, following a loud smack against the wooden door which made you flinch. Both you and the guy near you, calmly folding the laundry as well, looked towards the closet which contained just cleaning supplies but neither of you said anything. It didn't take you long to figure out what was going on in there.

It wasn't the first time you heard noises of people having sex in different places in this building, it was rather common, but it had never interfered with your work. Jesus fucking Christ. There was still a lot of laundry left and you had time only a little over an hour anymore. They better finish whatever they were doing fast, otherwise you'd be blamed for not getting the job done in time.

"Well, i guess it's just you and me then," the guy said, stating the obvious to make the situation less awkward for you. He had never said a word to you, seeming to be one of the quiet patients too but not mute ones like you.

Amazing.

You folded the bed sheets together with him, since you couldn't possibly get them folded neatly enough on your own – and the staff had high standards to even how the laundry was folded.

Suddenly, as you were folding one of the shirts, you felt sharp pain on your forefinger, letting out a gasp out of your mouth. You looked at your finger, seeing blood pouring out of the wound.

No, no, no, no. A few drops of blood fell on the white shirt, dying it slowly red. You couldn't immediately get the laundry dirty again. Okay, no problem, you'd just sneak the shirt into the middle of the pile and they won't know it's your fault, right? You'll blame it on those two horny rabbits in the closet. You had always done your job well without issues. Or maybe the staff would realize that the washing machines were starting to arrive to the end of their life cycle.

You turned the shirt around, trying to find the reason why your finger was bleeding, and found a razor blade. How the hell had a patient got a hold on a damn razor blade here?

The blonde man's eyes grew wider as he looked at you holding your bleeding hand.

Both of you knew where you could get bandages from – the cleaning closet. There was a first-aid kit, it was required to have them in each room here, even in ones where having an accident wasn't very likely. You exchanged an awkward glance with the guy, then turning to look towards the closet, both of you having the exact same thought.

You didn't want to go there and interrupt the act happening inside but the guy didn't seem to care. He opened the door, which didn't have a lock, and yanked it open, making the two people inside fall on the floor, laying on top of each other.

"What the fuck's your problem?" the horny closet guy shouted.

"My problem is that we need to get the work done or we won't get dinner afterwards," he calmly replied and stepped over them into the closet, making sure to have his gaze on the floor first and see if he was stepping on something he’d need to wash off his shoe.

He came back to you soon with a roll of bandage and slowly took your hand in his, making sure to get your permission first, and wrapped a piece of bandage around your finger, tightly and securely.

"The cut is quite deep but won't require stitches," he explained.

Was he a doctor or something? You let him do his thing, afraid of bleeding out even though the cut wasn't life threatening at all. His hands felt warm and surprisingly soft against your skin. You knew your hands were always cold so the warmth felt insanely good right now.

As he was holding your hand, his movements stopped for a moment, gaze on the wall behind you. Eyes looked like they had turned into glass for a few seconds and he wouldn't be able to even blink. You stretched your neck to look over your shoulder but saw nothing else than a dusty shelf.

He was quick to back away from you, closing his eyes and holding his head. He took a few deep breaths, eventually opening his eyes again and taking a glance back towards the dusty shelf.

What did he see?

For the rest of the work, all four of you stayed mostly silent, only concentrating on folding the sheets and clothes as neatly as you could. The atmosphere and silence was quite awkward by now, you wished nothing more than to get out of here soon. Even the two fuck buddies managed to get to work and actually get a lot done, so you finished the work sooner than you had been prepared for.

When all the laundry had been folded and put in neat piles, you dropped your gaze at your feet, seeing a metal piece next to your foot. The razor blade had dropped on the floor right next to you.

When the other three weren't looking, you put the razor blade inside your pocket. Just in case, ya know?

You sat on your usual seat in the large dining room with your tray which was filled with food. Today, you were eating rice and chicken with broccoli and carrots on the side. The rice was dryer than sand in a desert and would stick on the back of your throat, so you had to drink a lot of water while eating. The budget was too tight for a little bit of sauce, it seemed.

The seat in front of you was usually empty. You weren’t sure why, but it was the last seat to be filled at this table of 8 seats. But now, the previous laundry guy was standing next to you. The blonde one, not the closet guy, thankfully.

“This seat taken?” he asked.

You glanced around the dining room, all the tables seemed to be full, just a few empty seats here and there.

You turned back to your food, not answering anything. He took the silence as a no and sat down, laying his metal tray down on the table in front of him.

“So, did you hear?” the girl next to you asked quietly, meaning the words to her friend on the opposite side.

“I hear a lot of things, Urumi,” a girl in front of her snapped.

You didn’t care about socializing but didn’t mind listening to some of the gossips going around the asylum. You were nosy, you could admit that, but weren't everyone at some level? You kept your eyes only on your dinner, not wanting them to realize how you were following their conversation even though they had to be aware that you’d hear them.

“That man who kept going on and on about some ridiculous games. He hung himself last night in his room.”

“He what?”

“Offed himself, couldn’t handle it anymore, I guess,” Urumi whispered but loud enough for you to hear.

“Christ,” the girl grimaced. “With a rope? Where the hell would he get one?”

“Probably not rope, I don’t know with what but man, that’s brutal,” Urumi continued and shook her head in disbelief.

"I heard it was pills though," another girl, sitting next to Urumi, added. "That's more plausible anyway." She then hesitated for a few seconds. "Is it true they operated on him a while ago?” She lowered her voice with an anxious expression on her face. “With that… you know.”

“It’s not a bad word that will curse you, Satomi. You can say it out loud,” another girl groaned, but Urumi ignored her.

“Very much so,” Urumi nodded. “Went catatonic for two weeks and then lost his mind.”

Girls gossiped about a lot of things here together and most of them were stuff that you didn’t care about. Once in a while though, some of the gossips and rumors did catch your attention — this was one of them. You would have wanted to ask more details about what happened but you doubted that they’d know anything for certain.

They changed the subject soon to something else which didn’t interest you. You ate your dinner in peace, until one thing from the conversation next to you caught your attention again.

“By the way. You know what I heard yesterday?” Satomi asked. “The room upstairs which nobody knows what’s inside and where people go in crazy and come out as zombies?” Satomi glanced around her if anyone in the dining hall was looking towards your table, until turning back to her friends. “I heard a rumor what happens there.”

“What?” Urumi asked, now intrigued.

“Apparently they brainwash people,” Satomi told.

“Come on, Satomi. That’s ridiculous,” another girl denied, then lowering her voice a little, leaning closer to Satomi over the table. “And don’t talk so loud, others might hear and believe it to be true. We’d all get in trouble.”

“But it is true,” she insisted. "I mean, it must be. It makes sense, doesn't it?"

“Satomi,” the girl stated seriously. “Shut it. If the staff hears you talking a single word about that, you’ll be taken away too.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. They won’t take someone away just because they talk,” Urumi huffed and rolled her eyes before biting into a piece of broccoli.

“Yeah? People have been getting punishments for the simplest things here,” the girl argued. “So keep your mouth shut.”

Satomi only rolled her eyes and took one last bite of her food until she put her fork down on the empty plate.

“Is your finger alright?” the laundry guy asked you after being silent for the majority of the meal. The girls next to you paid him no attention, too concentrated on their own gossips which you had lost interest in.

You only nodded and gave him even a small smile. When you had finished eating, without another word you got up and left the dining hall.

Right after the dinner, you were on your way to draw at your usual table but noticed someone sitting there. On your chair. Three chairs, and she chose yours. You couldn’t have that. No. That was your chair. It had your name carved on it, even if others couldn’t see it.

You walked right next to the girl, making her to turn her head towards you.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

You didn’t respond, just snatched the book she was reading and moved it on the spot on the other side of the table, as far away from you as possible. Then, you went back to staring at her.

“Bitch, what the fuck’s your problem?” she spat. “I’m sitting here, go somewhere else.”

Why does she think she can talk to you that way?

Who does she think she is?

The audacity.

Make her move.

Move.

Move.

Stupid girl.

Punch and kick if have to.

The voices alone made your blood boil and raise anger and fury inside you, making you clench your fists together to keep your calm.

Are you stupid too?

Let another girl walk over you?

Idiot.

You’re an idiot.

Worthless idiot.

Fucking loser.

Take a deep breath, Doctor Kano said in your mind. Deep breath. Ignore them, you can do it.

Cut her throat.

It’s still in your pocket, isn’t it?

You kept staring at her, sending invisible daggers in her way. You wanted to yank her ponytail hard and throw her on the floor, make her chip her tooth by the hit of her face on the floor, but you resisted the urge — just because you didn’t want to return to solitary confinement this fast.

Nevertheless, your hand was hovering over your right pocket, then grabbing the small razor blade through the canvas, having the urge to just pull it out and dig it straight into the aorta on the side of her neck.

No, no, no — there could be no blood shed tonight. At least not by your own hand. Breathe.

Since you didn’t move out of her way, she let out a deep sigh and got up, moving to sit on the other chair. Good for her being the bigger person — those were a rare find here. You had been already preparing yourself for an afternoon fight, no matter the consequences.

You sat down, the chair warmed up for you, and started drawing a new image.

This is what your days consisted of in most parts. Wake up at 6 am, medicine, wash yourself, breakfast, go outside, work, dinner, draw, medicine, sleep at 8 pm and wake up minimum of five times during the night. That is, if you were even able to fall asleep at all. And then start all of that over the next morning.

Soon, someone else approached your table, sitting down on the last free seat. It made the girl instantly get up and leave you alone, which made you take a good guess who it was without having to turn and look at his way.

“Here, I brought you something,” Banda said and gave you something what looked like charcoal. "Found it outside while i worked in the garden. Thought you could use it since you didn't have anything black to draw with."

He was right, you didn't own a black crayon which annoyed you and you hadn't had a chance to get one to your hands. You smiled at him, thankful for the present.

Banda wrote something on one of your papers with a purple crayon and handed it to you.

‘Want me to stay or go away?’ with two boxes on the side with options of ‘Leave’ and ‘Stay’.

During your time here, Banda was one of the few people whose company you didn’t mind. Of course you knew who he was and what he had done, being a serial killer and making every woman here afraid of him, but you didn’t care about his past and whatever led him to the asylum.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to start befriending a serial killer out of all the people here, but Banda was the only person by far who didn’t consider you crazy. Well, maybe he did think you were insane, but he didn’t treat you like others did. Didn’t talk to you in the tone which most of the people did. He treated you like there was nothing wrong with you. Like you were normal. You liked that. Obviously you wouldn’t consider him to be your actual friend, not yet at least — you didn’t have friends here. You simply didn’t mind his company and didn’t have the instant urge to make him walk the fuck away from you and leave you alone.

Banda had learned that you wouldn’t say a word to him and he didn’t mind it. He was the one to talk to you and you’d listen to him.

He probably had some ulterior motives towards you, but you hadn’t quite yet figured out what they were. First he’d get to know you and then commit the plan whatever he was going to do. Or maybe he simply approached you because you were the only girl who didn’t turn her head away from him when he’d look and speak to her. Honestly, if he killed you one day like he had killed all those other girls, you wouldn’t even mind — he would only do you a favor. Right now, living and dying were two options that were kind of whatever to you.

You ended up marking an X on the box that was referring for him to stay. You were glad that he respected your own space and didn’t bother you when you weren’t up for someone intruding your space, even though he made sure not to sit close to you.

The TV was on in the other side of the room which was used to play cartoons most of the time. Usually you didn’t even have to look towards the TV to know the show or movie they were playing, since they had quickly run out of the movies you had here so they just replayed movies already shown to you. Right now, the TV had Looney Tunes on, and someone turned the volume a lot louder which often annoyed people who didn’t care to watch the show.

“Turn it off,” a man yelled, trying to concentrate on reading a book.

“Shut up, I need to hear this part better, it’s my favorite,” the man with the remote in his hand argued back.

Banda said something to you but your attention was cut right then when you noticed someone standing in the room, someone new you hadn’t seen before. He was completely out of place, dressed up in a complete different outfit than any other person in this asylum. He was dressed to look like… a Joker? It was more like a costume than a normal outfit you'd wear on daily basis. His eyes never left you, looking at you and only you. You couldn’t turn to look away from him, having a strange pull towards him.

Was he real? Or just an illusion? No, of course he wasn't real, no matter how real he looked.

Then, he simply waved his hand as a greeting, a large grin on his face, so wide it was almost inhumane. You narrowed your eyes, wanting to walk up to him and ask why the hell he was looking at you like that. He eventually turned his head away from you and started walking away.

No, wait. You got up and walked to the direction where he had gone to, leaving Banda to sit there by himself.

The strange man entered a room in the end of the hallway. When nobody was looking, you entered the room as well, quietly closing the door after you. You hadn’t been in this room before but weren’t prohibited to enter it either.

You looked around, not seeing the man in the Joker costume anywhere, being all alone in this room.

Then, you noticed something on the wall, walking closer to the specific spot.

A playing card taped on the wall. You furrowed your eyes, examining it a little closer. It was a 7 of Hearts. Taking it in your hand and flipping it the other way round, your heart stopped for a second when you noticed your name written on it with a black pen.

Y/N. Just your name, nothing else.

You scoffed and threw the card over your shoulder on the floor before you started walking back towards the door. Useless, of course the man had been a mere illusion.

You left the room and walked down the white corridor, tired for sleeping only couple of hours the past three nights, either the voices or the patient next to your room keeping you up most of the night. You felt like you could pass out right there and then but then you’d get pissed off nurses to shake you awake.

Suddenly, someone was standing right in front of you, blocking your way.

“Hello there,” a man greeted. You looked up at him, confused who the hell was bothering you this time.

Again the man with piercings on his face. You only stared at him, looking into his eyes and waiting what he was going to say to you.

“Still no ‘hello’ or anything back, huh?” he said, not getting a word out of you. He narrowed his eyes, you were more stubborn than he had thought. “Did you cut off your tongue or do you not give a shit otherwise?” Silence with a dead stare. “Alright then.”

You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms against your chest, getting impatient of him getting to the point already.

“Was just wondering if you could spare a moment of your extremely busy day to me,” he suggested with half a smile. “I’d like to have a chat.” He received only more silence from you. “Fine, you don’t have to talk back. I just have —“

You turned your head away from him and walked past him, not looking back at all. You weren’t going to socialize with anyone, you weren’t here to make friends. Having Banda near you was already more than enough. Nobody was going to make you talk.

His drawing and previous words from the other day were still lingering inside your mind though. You had the urge to stop and turn back to face him, to find out what he meant. Whether he actually planned an escape from here or if he was just joking. Or if you had just analyzed the situation in a wrong way.

You had heard of a few people trying to escape, always using different routes and ways to get out, but by far nothing had worked — they had always gotten caught and received a punishment worse than any other treatment. The escapists were locked inside a room which nobody else had managed to take a peek in before, so you didn’t know for sure what was inside. But what you did know that after a week of some sort of torture, all of them were complete zombies and never returned back to their normal self, their personalities being twisted to something else. They never planned to escape ever again, the staff made sure of that. They weren’t even capable to try that, since they seemed to lose the capability to even think anything for themselves.

You thought back to the conversation during the dinner, something about brainwashing the patients who tried to escape. It didn’t sound too far fetched if you thought about it. You wondered if the guy was aware of that and was prepared for that risk, but that was none of your problem — he was doing the damage to himself and there was nobody else to blame.

Those brainwashed patients weren’t here anymore, because all of them had committed a suicide. You would too, in that case - so no, you weren't going to hear him out, not right now.

When it was time to go back to bed, you were once again not able to fall asleep, even though you were extremely tired. Your back was hurting from the hard surface, the mattress being extremely thin, neck throbbing in pain too. You were twisting and turning, wanting to scream out of frustration — being so tired but not able to make yourself fall asleep even for a few minutes.

“Dear lord, Jesus Christ, please let me out of here,” a voice on the other side of the wall next to your bed pleaded. The walls here were almost paper thin. It must have been midnight since the man always prayed at this exact time, every single night.

You wanted to hit the wall to shut him up but it wouldn’t help, no. You sort of wished you would believe in God or whatever, wondering if it helped being in this shithole at all. It probably didn’t.

“Why did you put me here, in the middle of this swarm of demons! What bad have I done to you?” the man screamed, starting to sob. “I’ve always been such a loyal believer and follower! Why did you abandon me like this!”

Someone fucking strangle that man in a bathroom or something. Ways of killing other patients had been quite limited nowadays: the staff had even changed plates to paper plates and forks to plastic forks which couldn’t even pick up a piece of potato properly. They didn’t even give you sharp pencils to draw with, you couldn’t stab someone in the eye with a crayon. Well, you could, but it wouldn’t work as well as a sharpened pen.

Suddenly, you noticed words on the wall opposite from your bed, painted with large red letters.

THE GAMES ARE ABOUT TO START — ARE YOU EXCITED?

What the hell?

Then, laughter. Manic laughter somewhere in the distance but at the same time awfully close to you. It made you flinch and send shivers down your spine.

No, you were not excited.

You turned around to face the other wall but as you put your hand under your pillow, you felt something that you hadn’t put there by yourself. You furrowed your eyebrows, pulling it out.

A playing card. 7 of Hearts. With your name written on the back, the exact same one you had gotten rid of before. But now, it had followed you into your room as well.

What the fuck was going on?

[lazorbeanz]

More Sonamy Headcanons

🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷

Part 1

- (This one I imagine with Boom!Sonamy more-so hehe)

There are days when Amy needs to get up early and do house chores or run errands, however a certain Sonic T. Hedgehog believes its cuddle time and refuses to let her go (also he wants to sleep in lol)

So Amy decides to just slide him onto her back and casually goes about her day, piggyback-ing her eepy bf everywhere till he’s ready to wake up

They totally don’t get plenty of stares if she’s out with him in public

- Sonic is often quite oblivious to just how happy he gets when he sees Amy. How his ears perk up that little bit higher…his smile a little bit wider…his cheeks a little bit warmer…his heartbeat a little bit faster

Heck he won’t even realise his tail wagging as fast as he can run when he’s in her presence, till one day he glances down at it and be like, “tf- it could do that?!”

- Sonic and Amy are the kind of duo who could yap to each other for hours on end…and they’re also the kind of duo who could sit in comfortable silence with each other…for hours on end.

In either way, just having each other’s comforting company is what makes it all worthwhile.

- Sonic has given Amy the nickname “Ames” which only he calls her that (as we all know)…but, he only calls her “Ames” if he is talking to her directly.

Like say if he was talking to someone other than Amy, and happens to bring her up in conversation (for whatever reason), he’ll just refer to her as “Amy”

But if he’s talking straight to Amy herself, he’ll call her “Ames”

I mean the given nickname (that ONLY Sonic uses on her) is already a cute gesture in itself but for him to only give her that nickname when he’s directly speaking to her makes it feel more special imo :)

- Sonic and Amy have a secret scrapbook that they use when they’re alone together in a quiet place.

It be filled with assorted pictures from their adventures together, little wholesome notes written to each other, flowers (which have been dried and pressed) that Sonic has given Amy over the years..

Amy also tends to doodle in it. Sometimes Sonic would join her. So whilst Amy is in the middle of drawing a really detailed sketch of a flower, Sonic has just drawn a mini comic with stick people and mutiple of those “Cool S’es” you’d learn in school

- One time Sonic decided to rock up at Amy’s house, with a bag full of cans of spray paint, and took her to a secluded area, to spray paint some of her amazing doodles (in his words xD) from their scrapbook (on either a cliffside or cave wall)

Amy had never done graffiti (if you’d even call it that) in the middle of nowhere before, but she had to admit it was super fun!

Sonic again joined in too, but this time she was surprised to see just how good he was in street styled art…guess he was just better with cans and a large canvas provided by earth rather than a pencil and paper

Eventually they make that place a new hangout spot ;)

- Amy would get in matching floaties and/or life-vest with Sonic when teaching him how to swim so he doesn’t feel to uncomfortable or embarrassed being the only one having to wear them

It definitely lightens up the mood too as they can’t stop laughing over how goofy they both look in the moment

- When Sonic is about to give Amy a quill massage, he takes her headband off before doing so, and he wears it on himself in the meantime hehe

- Sonic secretly loves the scent of the shampoo Amy uses in her quills. He’ll always try to get a waft of it when he can, but subtly, like when giving her kisses on the head. Or if they’re like casually snuggled up watching tv or something, he’ll gently rest his head on top of her’s, then slowly but eventually bury his face in her hair, immersing himself in the nice fragrance lol

Infact when Amy asked him to run an “emergency errand” to grab shampoo one time, he made sure to check beforehand which one it was she was using previously, specifically so he can buy that one for her to use again

- When Amy is trying on and showing Sonic some new dresses she bought on her recent shopping trip, Sonic would then takes her hand and twirl her around so they can check to see how nicely each dress flares up as she’s spinning

He really can’t help but admire just how beautiful she looks in every dress though.

- Sonic *as he’s entering Amy’s house*: “Hey Ames, I’m home!”

Amy: “Oh! Hi Soni- wait..home?”

Sonic: “Uhh, yeah? *realises what he just said* WAIT-“

- Although Sonic is more of a speed metal kinda guy, this man is UNASHAMED to belt it out to Amy’s white girl’s music when she has it playing in her house or while driving in her car

- Sonic and Amy are both bookworms! They have their own little library set up in Amy’s house where they’ll just sit and read separately, but together. (If that makes sense lol) Amy would be into romantasy (fantasy romance) whilst Sonic is more into fantasy or sci-fi thrillers

They both love comics and mangas though, so sometimes they might just end up reading through one huddled up together.

- If Amy woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, Sonic would just embrace her, one hand gently rubbing her back, the other buried in her quills, whilst softly singing a lullaby till she falls asleep again

It’s what he used to do a lot with Tails when he had nightmares so it kind of just became an instinctive habit of his

🩷💙

[opiopal]

yall wanna know something I think abt a lot? teenage/ little sibling mc au's. Mc gets brought down to the devildom at like 15-16 yr, obviously there is zero romance and instead they just get kinned as the 8th sibling in the HOL.

you guys wanna know what else I think of a lot? little sibling Mc being an agent of chaos when their found family trope isnt paying attention.

I can't help but imagine that once mc is kinned they get crazy spoiled. not spoiled rotten but they know they can get away with a LOT because they're now seen as the cute youngest that doesnt know any better. but obviously they do since they are a teenager who knows how the world works.

and I mention the agent of chaos thing is because they were already attending highschool before hand, so they quickly notice how highschoolish RAD feels, so they were able to jump into the social ring a lot faster then regular Mc. and thus have the ability to get information from people who trust them/like them. so it ends up being useful to them. and now to my leading point: imagine a sort of friendship with Mephisto. its really more like, a symbiotic relationship. they are around each other for a reason. and that reason is RADs newpaper club.

it first started out with Mc staying after at RAD with lucifer to help with a few things, eventually Mc was put in a random room to hang out in after they did all that they could. which turned out to be the room for the newspaper club. after a while they get bored because their D.D.D died and they snagged a paper that was meant for the next day. eventually Mephisto enters the room, goes to tell them to leave which quickly they say "Dia told me I can be in here, if you have a problem with what the lord wants you could always go tell him that!" which shut him up fast. a good couple of minutes go by before the silence is broken by Mc speaking up and going, "You know, this is kinda boring." offended, he whips around, "excuse me?"

"theres nothing interesting here. interviews.. talking about things that everyone already knows about.. like, I could google half this junk." "I- well what would you know!?" "a lot actually. you dont appeal to any of the students here."

he glares for second before inhaling slowly, remembering that diavolo might be nearby.

"oh yeah? as if you could do better." "I could actually," "well i would love to hear it then."

he says sarcastically. though Mc speaks anyways.

mc adjusts how they were sitting and scans over the paper for a second.

"a gossip section would do it good." "what?" "come on dude, its non-sports club 101, if you want people to pay attention to you, you need to appeal to them. I was in theater for a while and we'd bribe people with free food if they sat through the whole show. this place loves drama. and lucifer being drawn riding on a unicorn isn't funny enough to get more then one person to buy it."

slowly they start talking a bit more casually and stop being so hostile. eventually Mc says that they could tell him the gossip they hear if he wants to make a part in the paper for said gossip. so, from then on they slip notes to him about student drama. which does indeed get more papers told!

though one day, someone pisses Mc off. not really that they were the one insulted, but they heard a few demons talking shit about their older brothers. so for the next week Mc takes a good amount of notes on those demons. which eventually they go to Mephisto with their notes and gave them to him. when he questions why these particular demons, he's met with a very angry "if those cunts want to talk shit and not mind their business then why shouldn't their own business get talked about." for a moment he wants to press further... but unfortunately for him he found himself actually caring about this human very much so he couldn't help but just want to make them feel better... and this much of a consititant story would draw people in so its totally not that he kinned this kid as well, totally!! so for about two weeks the gossip section has an ongoing story that causes nearly the whole school to get a paper to stay updated.

of course every bit of gossip uses code names to keep people from being outed on anything. and honestly some of the gossip might end up being people bringing it to the newspaper club themselves, so maybe a small confessions page ends up being opened.

obviously this is something a little cracked, and just a not very thought out thing that exists bc it makes me giggle when I'm daydreaming before I fall asleep<3 and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if there was already a gossip section in the school papers, but unfortunately I was never ever able to make it past the first few lessons of session 2 of obey me, which sucks:/

[goatgoesmbe]

Heya! So, in response to the Gaz thing. I think it def has to do with race, tbh. But I also think it comes down to broad characterization within the fandom. In comparison to the other 3, I think sometimes people have trouble imagining his characterization? Like John is The Captain, Simon is the Brooding One, Johnny is The Loud One, and then they kinda falter in giving Gaz a distinctive personality beyond “protege-golden boy-the normal one”. In my opinon, one of the best ways to tell if Gaz has real characterization within the fic is if he has any sort of relationship with Ghost. And I don’t even mean romantic way. It’s easy to pair Gaz with John, mentor-mentee, and it’s easy to pair Gaz with Johnny, best friends. But they’ll often overlook the Gaz/Ghost relationship entirely because they Don’t Know What To Do. But all my favorite fics with Gaz, ensure that Gaz and Ghost have some sort of dynamic going on.

OMGG!!! I AGREE WITH YOU ABOUT NEEDING MORE GAZ/GHOST

i saw @/lxvie been writing a lot of them lately and im obsessed.. its more of horny blurbs thoo XD

For me, Gaz is a sweet good boy, golden boy, very kind and has most moral compared to other 141. But the thing is, he would still commit atrocities like they do.. even if he keep talking about how this is wrong

Them with warcrimes be like:

Price: someone has to do it *shrugs*

Ghost: *probably zoning out as he does it, coz he doesn't care*

Soap: *literally said* MAKE ME WANT TO COMMIT A FEW WARCRIMES MYSELF

Gaz: THIS IS WRONG >:( im still gonna do it tho, but i dont like it

Ok so, with Ghost.. i kind of HC him to be more silly than the usual serious broody guy.

Sure, he is serious and broody to others. But people who knows him? Not exactly

With how he casually throw one stupid joke after another. And waited for Foap even tho he didn't have to, he's not totally emotionless, he could care if he want

Also him roasting Price after the latter passed out LMAO

So with Gaz who's Price's fav boy.. Gaz would be the one scolding Ghost and not the other way around

Even tho Ghost isnt reacting to it, for me he's actually the most reasonable.. he doesn't explode like the others had. Could be calmer than Gaz

Ghost would suggest drawing on Price's face when the captain was asleep. Gaz would be the one trying to stop him (and Soap who would agree ofc). It was because they wanted to use permanent marker, Gaz gave them something that could be easily erased instead

Also. Ghost is disgusting hc. I wrote abt Gaz being annoyed by Ghost who's fussy about his acne, and dragged the latter to sephora lolol

So.. Price is the captain. Ghost is the broody guy but actually silly. Soap is loud and explosive. Gaz is.. some kind of.. the rule enforcer XD like if Ghost and Soap is scheming something, Gaz would give them the look

Gaz tops Ghost btw

I also like to hc him drowning in bitches. I stand by him being the most unsuspecting fuckboy. Them seeing a pretty bird at a bar would be

Soap: tried to hard, scared you away

Ghost: didn't even try, stared at you unblinking hoping you approach him instead

Price: old school, be minding his own business and buy you a drink

Gaz: would slide to your side and be smooth about it

He's also banned from being anyone's wingman because he always ended up taking the birdie home himself

Added note: he's the most perfect candidate to be a yandere!!! Besides Soap. Coz yandere means yan: sadistic, and dere: sweet. But people often forgot the sweet.. often make yandere to be just.. dark, no sugar. But with Gaz? Oh he would be a good at being both

[karusthings]

.⋆˚࿔ b l o n d e - k. nanami ࿐˚⋆.

ꎫ──[ coworker au ; drabble ]

character dynamicꎫ── coworker!nanami x gn!reader

summaryꎫ── after asking for ages -strictly for work, obviously- you finally get your coworker to have some free time and grab coffee with you. he buys the excuse at first… until your curiosity totally gives you away and you end up embarrassing yourself. luckily, he finds it kind of cute.

content warningsꎫ── kinda fluff, non-relationship, a bit flirty, rainy day.

wordsꎫ── 670.

¡! ❞ masterlist jjk.

"So, since depreciation is an indirect cost," he said, looking at the cash flow chart and the quarterly expense report you brought. "It doesn’t affect real cash flow, but it does impact fiscal balance.”

You weren’t going to lie, your eyes couldn’t look away from his hair. You couldn’t even focus on the rain, as you usually did, because he was simply stunning.

"Are you actually blonde?" Nanami looked up at you as you talked. That could've been the first time someone left him speechless.

"Excuse me, what did you say?" He asked back, trying to focus on what you just said instead of the papers in front of him. He looked so cute, narrowing his eyes. "I… I must have misunderstood you."

"Oh, sorry– I didn’t explain myself properly. I meant, are you naturally blonde? Or do you dye your hair?" And that only seemed to confuse him further.

But he smiled at you anyway, like he always did.

"Oh, it's.. It is natural." And he took a sip of his coffee, letting the moment settle and savoring it calmly before continuing to talk. "I've never used any product to change its colour."

“It looks really good on you.”

Nanami certainly didn’t know how to react. He just nodded softly, murmuring a few words. “It’s… much appreciated. Then…”

But when you saw him glance at the documents again, you knew you had to speak before he could go back to his business talk. So you mentioned, “And your eyes are brown.”

That’s when he seemed to realize this wasn’t going to be a work conversation. He folded the papers and handed them to you. For a moment, you got a little scared, thinking he might leave, but instead, he just looked at you.

“They are.”

You watched his shoulders relax, and with them, so did your heart. His posture eased from its usual stiffness, and he sighed, letting himself sink into the back of the seat.

“You know… if I had known earlier that this was merely a casual meeting rather than a work-related one, I would have gladly accepted any of the previous ten invitations."

You blinked, genuinely surprised, before blurting out, “Oh, would you?” Your voice carried nothing but sincerity. You saw him nod, with his eyes closed. And when you thought he couldn’t look better, he slightly reclined his head back.

"It’s exhausting to always be working, and my schedule is pretty restrictive." The man looked at you again, his lips drawing a calm smile that was almost a part of him by now. "I don’t like working in my free time, but I’m always up for a coffee."

“Sorry about those dumb questions then, Nanami.”

“Kento, please. We’re not working right now.” He drank a bit, looking at your half full cup. “They weren’t dumb, anyway. They were curious.”

The sound outside grew louder, and so did your excitement, as it seemed. Nanami tried to hide the subtle twitch of his mouth as he fought back a grin.

“You really love rain, don’t you?”

“What?” You seemed just as confused as he had been when you had asked about his bright hair.

“You always get so excited when it’s raining. At the office, you look out the window with a big smile, and everything around you just… seems to fade away.” And he was completely right.

“How do you–…”

“Your smile just got wider as the rain started to pour harder. And you began covering your fingers with your sweater, just like you always do.” He explained, his smile never leaving his lips.

Well, only when you’re around, you wanted to say. Only when the only thing better than the rain stands right in front of me. But, of course, you kept quiet.

“You’re pretty expressive.” He concluded.

“And you’re pretty cute.” You said quietly, finishing your coffee as you felt your cheeks flush.

“Well, look who’s talking. I must say, your hair questions are… quite charming.”

Then, the two of you shared a laugh.

¡! ❞ masterlist jjk.

¡! ❞ little note; Hi everyone! I hope you're having a great day (or night, idk). This is my first official project posted, and I really hope someone likes it around here! Enjoy your reading. (Please let me know if you see anything misspelled, English is not my first language).

ꎫ¨.｡ © I have full credit on every artwork in my profile, all rights reserved. Please, do not repost, edit or use any of it.

ꎫ¨.｡ © 2025 all rights reserved, karusthings on Tumblr. Please, do not repost, edit, use or translate any of my projects.

[luckyjunehenry]

hi! (not) local anxious teen thinking about the future and very very worried ...

I look up to you a lot and I'm curious if you have any advice about being in the world?

it doesn't have to be anything groundbreaking Im just looking for words to put in my brain :)

ok yay im in the mood to type a lot because my new keyboard protecter makes my typing sound nice. here is my advice for being In The World as someone who was SO scared:

become a Regular somewhere. Coffee shops and libraries r fantastic spots for this. first of all, it's great to have a place away from home to work on schoolwork if you're in school. meeting other Regulars/employees and forming friendships is totally possible, but even if you don't get particularly close to anyone, familiar acquaintances are far more valuable than we realize!

be really mindful about your substance use, especially for the first year of living on your own. Even if you're only using at parties or shows or whatever, that's teaching your brain that in order to have fun and be social, you Need a substance. after struggling with substances in high school, I was completely sober for my freshman year of college. I think this is one of the best choices I made for myself at that age!

you probably haven't found The One yet and that Is GOOD ! ! even if you have a romantic partner you feel really confident about, be sure to form friendships with people completely separate from your partner. even if you and your partner are together 4 life, it's important to have your own social sphere!

IT IS WORTH DECORATING YOUR ROOM EVEN IF YOU WILL ONLY BE THERE FOR ONE YEAR ! ! ! it is NEVER too late to decorate. Yeah it's a hassle to move everything, but it increases my happiness so so much to be in a space that feels like home to me. I think its especially important to do this if you end up living in a dorm!

if you haven't established a line of credit yet, it's a great idea to get on that soon if ya can. My first credit card was a Chime credit builder which basically functioned as a debit card. I couldn't spend any money that I didn't already have. It honestly doesn't even matter if you're using it constantly, just try to make like one purchase per month or so! One of the major factors of a credit score is the length of your credit history. Even though I didn't use a credit card much until recently, my score is pretty decent because I have a credit history that's around 3 years old.

eat. seriously. so many people I know struggle so much with their mood and health and its largely due to not having a regular food schedule. it's way harder than you expect it to be!

everything is always gonna be awkward. you have to decide whether you want awkwardness to rule your life or if you can face awkwardness regularly and live far more freely and awesomely. what's the worst that's gonna happen?? you ask someone to hang out and they say no?? do we need to call the ambulance now????

that's all my basic Young Adult advice. a framework I've been trying to live by lately is like

what would I do if I were a kid but had all the resources and freedom I do now? (Sometimes this means playing at the park for hours, drawing, even buying a silly toy)

what would I do if I were a dog with human rights and resources? (choose whatever animal suits you best. This is just a fun way to live and helps me go on more walks)

also you're allowed to eat ice cream every day. twice per day, even.

BEST OF LUCK TO YOU!!!! It's scary but it's also awesomer than you can imagine!!!!

[drabblejester]

SAMPO KOSKI RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS!!!

requested by: nobody. i made this :3

pairing: sampo koski x gn!reader

content warnings: no important warnigs!!! stupid men doing stupid things

comments: ily blue kronk. hes like if johnny bravo was finnish and stupid (lovingly)

oh he’s a NERD nerd. constantly in your hair rambling about something or other, TOTAL yapper. becomes 10x more talkative when you’re in the same room as him!!

constantly trying to impress you with everything he does. he’d do a backflip for you and ask if you liked it (if you didn’t respond fast enough he’ll do another one). he’s like those birds of paradise that do a little dance to court other birds

he wouldn’t flex his money on you but you know what he would flex? his MUSCLES!! always trying to pick you up and hold you, toss you around, carry you places, etc. he just wants you to know that he can protect you and also just help you out :3

he would call you the DUMBEST pet names ever. babygirl style. he’d call you his cheeseburger, his slush, his googoobaby, etc. either stuff that doesn’t make sense or super cheesy/old timey ones. puddinpop, honeybaby, etc.

although he does have an ominous more serious side, he’d try to hide it a bit. he’s a bit nervous about intimidating you (i mean he does have two knives and has killed people before so very obvious reason), so he tries to act all silly and passive to make sure you don’t get scared

he wouldn’t get TOO possessive i think (i know.. i apologize…) but y’know, he’d step in if someone talks to you for a WHILE.

tries to share your interests!! if you like sewing, he’d try to sew you a little plushie of himself. you like crochet? he’s making ten blankets right now. drawing? he’s trying his best! writing stuff on tumblr for a bunch of people who think that stupid blue men are hot? don’t break the fourth wall please

SO MANY DAD JOKES. whether you have a kid(or kids) or not it doesn’t matter, he’s cracking jokes like they’re gonna be uncrackable tomorrow. did i ever tell you about the story about that elevator? it sure has its ups and downs!

constantly CONSTANTLY snuggling up to you like a little cat. like, actually crawling into your lap and everything. curls up into a little sampo-shaped ball and falls asleep. always at the worst times and places though. you will never know rest from his tormenting

might bring you to the tavern a few times! buys you a drink, giggles around with you, introduces you to the other fools. he tries to give you a little smooch with his mask on but it just donks against your teeth. you both laugh about it though (as aha intended)

enjoy the food my lieges <3