#its too depressing to do the work to update it

[applepixls]

Anyone else thinking about how odd the hermitcraft economy is?

in season 9 they had a minor economic recession after the diamond ore war because there were far too many diamonds in circulation making them (hypothetically) worth less than normal and ren stepped in as the king and did what has been done in the midst of a lot of irl economic depressions; he created a government so they could employ the policy of Keynesian economics (basically more gov't intervention to stabilize the economy, it mostly worked in 1930's japan!), he took control of diamonds and even introduced a new currency, royal emeralds (much like Germany after WW1! they had some hyperinflation because of the war reparations they had to pay and the gov't not understanding that printing more money makes the money worth less resulting in the mark [currency] being so worthless they started burning it because they couldn't afford wood for fires. a new gov't came into power and they replaced the mark with rentenmarks which did a lot of fixificating for the economy). Ren's gov't also introduced a lot of gov't funded projects like the quests (the irl equivalent for this would be Roosevelt's New Deal which introduced policies/projects called the Alphabet Agencies (among other things) such as the AAA, CCC, TVA (do you see why they're called the alphabet agencies?) that would adjust the value of grain so farmers could start earning money for produce again and create work that would support a growing economy, projects like building roads and bridges)

so basically, all the policies ren's government introduced were very logically sound and worked in real life to fix the economy (except that irl the Great Depression only fully ended because WW2 started-), the issue is that hermitcraft is not real life and hermits do not behave like real people, they behave like hermits.

lets start with the hermitcraft economy. unlike the real economy, hermits rarely adjust prices according to how many diamonds are "in circulation". i say this despite the fact grian in a recent-ish episode says that "everything costs more this season because diamonds are more common". that can't be true because the caves and cliffs update literally made diamonds more difficult to acquire. I will circle back to this point made by grian later

hermits not adjusting prices by server-wide abundance of diamonds (because they cant really know how much anyone has, much less the total amount of diamonds in circulation, they just know who has a lot and who is broke) means that more diamonds doesn't make them worth less like it did with German marks, it just means hermits have more expendable currency and can spend more money and less time gathering materials for projects. It is also notable that diamonds are constantly being added and taken out of circulation because they're an actual useful currency rather than real life currencies which are symbolic slips of paper. diamonds can be used for armour and tools and it can be acquired by mining. so because of how hermits spend money, taking diamonds out of the economy in s9 did nothing but make them poor and angry at the government. the hermitcraft economy is actually stronger with more diamonds in circulation and is worsened by gov't intervention.

so already the use of real life strategies is utterly useless in hermitcraft economy but there are a few other reasons as well

the hermits tendency to resist government as well as the flawed and greedy government itself are a couple but also the fact that all the hermits are self employed (in real life but also in universe). they own and stock their own shops meaning all profits are more or less direct; its not passed through hands of big corporations so the person producing the product gets mere cents. the hermits are essentially small business owners (which becomes a bit of a problem come season 10 but we're still talking about season 9). The important part is the self employment. the season 9 gov't introduces the quests which mimic and echo real life government funded projects but because they're all employed and the quests gave small amounts of diamonds back, they did very little for the hermits

I'm sure theres more to say but i think its time to move on to the very interesting season 10 economy

if you've missed it you must be living under a rock but hermits are all using permits this season meaning only one shop in the shopping district is selling any given item/material and as a result of this prices have gone sky high. at one point a single stack of mangrove logs cost 7 diamonds when in previous seasons you could get at least 1 stack of wood for 1 diamond if not more

So what is causing this economic depression and hyperinflation?

well, circling back to the point grian made about resources costing more because of abundance of diamonds, I would think it actually costs more because of the permits.

grian thinks the diamond prices are fair because he has middle of the road permits (and is one of the hermits who designed their shopping district, permit and economic system this season so he's biased), there is enough demand to keep him afloat when he's stocked but its nothing people are clamouring for and buying him out. on the other hand, joel made a lot of shops that no one shops at because his objectively weighted permits have not been selling as well as they anticipated when making the permits (also some people like etho and pearl have additional income from their not as fabulous permits because they've made a pay to play game to go with it) and finally there are hermits like mumbo whose gold, iron and item frame shops were constantly getting bought out so he was frustrated with trying to restock despite getting lots of profit

(another interesting dynamic to think about is permits like cleo's book permit which lost value as the season went on because everyone needed books early on but now that they're all playing late game Minecraft, everyone is pretty stocked up and buying from cleo less often)

Basically, grian is satisfied with the pricing because he's middle class and couldn't afford it if they were more expensive but appreciates not being constantly out of stock, joel is unsatisfied because he is lower class and never has enough expendable currency to fund his projects because materials are too expensive and his permits aren't worth enough to sell them for more, and mumbo is unsatisfied because he is higher class and is constantly out of stock because his materials sell out too often and he wants to sell them for more to stay in stock more (classic supply and demand, he doesn't want to stock them as often making the supply lower and the demand proportionally higher making them worth more and therefore more expensive)

the reason i say the permits are to blame for the high prices is because they cause the responsibility of constantly stocking something to fall on one person (in past seasons, if one persons sandstone shop was out of stock you could go check someone else's sandstone shop). the threat of taking the permit away if they arent stocked along with the difficulty of constantly stocking some of these materials raises the cost.

a great example of this is skizzleman because his mangrove and cherry wood shop was one of the first shops to be built in the shopping district, meaning he somewhat set the prices this season. now, mangrove and cherry are both difficult trees to harvest because of their unconventional shapes and the fact that they are more recent additions (and skizz's stubborn desire to design his own farms...) so because of the time required to gather them the prices already were hitched up. add that to the fact that they are trying to constantly be in stock and therefore low prices that allow hermits to completely buy out the shops are unfavourable, and you get sky rocket-ing prices. (it is also difficult because skizz had no prior experience with hermitcraft pricing)

in conclusion... hermitcraft needs a laissez-faire economy (f. a. hayek) to function and not go into economic depression. Between the nature of the diamond currency, hermits' tendency to rebel against governments, the way they use the concept of supply and demand to price their goods, and the restrictions permits put on supplying products, hermits have proven that extensive structure and government intervention have not improved economic wellbeing the way that it does in real life

thus, hermits do not behave like regular humans, they operate on fae laws of its funny so lets do it and therefore must be governed as such (aka not governed), thank you for coming to my ted talk

[killishin]

— ☆ meet me under the moonlight.

PART 01.

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

content warning: mentions of blood, death, alcohol, yuji did not eat the finger he's a normal jujutsu student, afab reader, mentions of depression, reader is a special grade sorcerer a badass heh, suggestive themes, no smut, second chance trope, shit ton of fluff and an attempt at comedy, some angst here and there

summary: reader's a special grade sorcerer. after losing your sister, you needed someone, you needed satoru. but he wasn't there. things did not end on good terms with him, your ex, before you moved overseas. reader is dead set on avoiding satoru while he just wants you back, no matter what.

a/n: I'll add the content warnings as we proceed. this is the first full fledged fic im working on and its been almost a year since i wrote anything so bear with any mistakes. currently busy with exams so expect updates to be slow. for those who know hindi, was listening to this while writing. it did match the vibe i am going for.

word count: 2.6k

dividers by @cafekitsune

masterlist. fic masterlist. next

nostalgia's a bitch.

a deep sigh leaves your lips, head tilted upwards while your eyes fluttered close. you tried to stop the onslaught of memories, some sweet while some... you'd rather never revisit. but they always haunt you, coming back to jujutsu high didn't necessarily trigger them.

and then there's him. occupying a whole place in your mind and though most were sweet, except that one memory that overshadowed all. that made you want to walk away from here right now and not even spare a glance back. you didn't know if your heart tingled or your mind raged with the very high possibility of seeing him again. you decided not to dwell on that.

some may call it rather childish to still hold onto a grudge even after a decade but you cannot find it in you to forget. though you convinced yourself to be cordial if— when the time comes.

"are you done moping or do you still wanna have your moment?" shoko called out dryly from behind you, and though you couldn't see her the amusement was clear as day in her voice. you could just sense that smirk growing on her lips.

"nice seeing you again too." you chuckled out with a resigned huff, removing your hands from your pocket as you opened your eyes and turned around to look at her.

it was truly nice seeing her again, it wasn't like you guys never talked, you did keep contact and text whenever possible. she looked more hot, somehow the bags under her eyes only grew darker but it all added to her laid back charm.

her lips tugged into a more softened smile and she tilted her head, the wind blowing both your hair. "missed having you around here. you still look the same."

though she said it sarcastically, her heart was a bit a mushy, she was more happy than she was letting on. she pushed off the wall and approached you, swinging an arm around your shoulder as she hugged you, patting your back.

"this place turned you into a softie." you murmured as you hugged her back, not being able to bite back the smile on your face. maybe you were fretting over nothing, it can't be that bad—

"hm though not as much as satoru for you." she teased and you grunted with a roll of your eyes, pulling away immediately.

"alright alright get off."

your lips pulled into that frown that always seemed to be etched on your face since adulthood started.

"still stingy i see." she remarked amusingly with a raised brow before walking in the gates. your steps hesitated, lips pulling into a grimace as your eyes looked at that gates, that suddenly seemed so daunting. murmuring a 'fuck it' you sauntered behind her.

"im not stingy." you retorted, eyes wandering around as you shoved your hands back in the pockets of your trouser. everything was more or less the same, the depressing aura that could never be concealed by the sounds of innocent laughter of the students here.

students. you looked back at shoko with a raised brow, "how many kids are here?" you asked, though you already knew how many, and had an almost vague idea of who they were. and then there's megumi, who you only saw a handful times before leaving yet had formed quite a bond with. you wonder how much that grumpy (yet sweet) kid has grown.

shoko's brows furrowed a bit, as if racking her mind for it. "there's three kids in the second year, three in the first years." she replied, glancing at you, as if already knowing what you were thinking. "megumi's one of them. he's grown...well i guess. still a grump."

you simply nodded at that, eyes softening as you looked down. you wished for the kids to have a normal life, yeah its not that feasible being in the sorcerer's world but still, you wished for them to have a much more normal-er life than what you had.

"satoru raised him well. don't tell him that though, his ego is big enough as it is." shoko snickered, shaking her head and you scoffed.

"like I'd wanna." you muttered under your breathe before looking up, pushing your glasses up you stared at the door before you. yaga's office.

shoko patted your back before she started to walk away, "again, welcome back. hope this shithole doesn't burn you out again." she called out, disappearing as she turned around the corner, leaving you to your silence.

you sighed, looking down at your heels as you rubbed your forehead in annoyance. you pulled at the neck of your turtlneck, feeling the regret creeping back up. before you know it, your mind was already brimming with overbearing thoughts and doubts. should you really have come back? was it right to come back?

and then your hand dropped to that silver pendent on your chest, the one that had your late sister's picture, twisting it in between your fingers. and somehow your mind calmed down, not by much but enough to pull your shit together.

you had to come back.

you walked out his office, closing the door behind, your hand griped the doorknob as you leaned your weight on one leg and rested a hand on your hip. you didn't think your day could get any worse.

you thought your only job would be to take on missions or maybe to supervise those less experienced than you, as it was overseas. you did not expect to be made into a part time babysitter. Yaga called it imparting important knowledge and experience to the students but it was all bullshit to your ears.

you had argued that you were not a teacher here and refrained almost immediately, not just its an extra hassle but because Satoru is their teacher. you would bump into him often as it is, you didn't want it to become a daily thing. but that damned old man is too good with his words, trapped her right in them, using her morals and fondness for kids against her.

"fucking hell.." you muttered as you started walking away but paused as you heard the sound of voices coming from somewhere. it wasn't just voices, there were grunts and yelling, clashing of metals and woods.

immediately clocking the energy you turned around and started walking towards the sound, recognising it leads to the ground. as you walked closer and closer, the blurred faces started becoming clearer. and you recognised the spiky hair among them.

your steps slowed to a stop at the edge of the steps leading down, staring at the students engaged in a duel. your arms folded across your chest while a smile tugged on your lips.

you couldn't help the fondness weasling its way into your heart as you observed megumi in a one sided fight, clearly the glasses girl was stronger, you recognised her as the zen'in girl. yet he was holding his own against her, as much he could, his lips pulled into a deeper frown.

your eyes strayed from them to the other kids around. you observed them all, cheering with such passion and smiles. it was endearing, a moment where the harsh reality doesn't seem as depressing. to your utter dismay, the pink haired boy though had taken notice of you, his head tilted innocently as he stared at you in wonder.

though the kid seemed harmless you were suddenly overcome by nervousness. great, nervous over meeting a bunch of kids? you're almost thirty for fucks sake!

you cleared your throat, about to walk down to introduce yourself to him and the kids when the kid suddenly grinned, grinned so bright you thought you'd turn blind. your brows furrowed in confusion before you noticed he is not grinning at you.

...wait how'd you not notice—

"there you are." came his voice from behind you, still that same annoying cheery voice and despite how much it made your annoyance spike, you hated how it still made your heart skip a beat, made your neck grow warmer while your mind went absolute radio silent.

and though it seemed like he said that to his student down below, you didn't need to look behind to know just where his eyes were at.

heaving a deep sigh you looked back, and there he is alright, still towering over you, confidence oozing out of him like he owned the goddamn world. those white hair still looked soft enough, like they always were— nope. not going there.

you spared him a withering glance before looking back at the students, perfectly hiding how you clenched your fists, how suddenly they clamed up. and just your unfortunate luck, the students had stopped and now all of them were staring at you. just great.

as if already sensing your ire his smirk widened as he stood beside you, his head tilted down and what the hell is up with that stupid blindfold?

"not even a hi? im wounded." he teased, lips pulling into a toothy grin and you felt a shiver run down your spine suddenly as if he just checked you out. you glared at him upon the realisation and but it just simply made that cheeky smile widen.

you looked at the kids and tried to offer a smile though you're sure it came out half hearted, fueling your embarrassment. you told them your name but before you could continue he cut in, waving at them in an over enthusiatic manner. "this pretty women here is a special grade sorcerer. don't worry not stronger than me—"

you glare.

"— but she would also be helping you and supervising you during your missions. don't worry she just looks daunting, she don't bite. well maybe a little—"

you glare harder.

"— we go wayyy back. friends and students here at the same place. though i suppose 'friends' is an understatement, lovers maybe—"

"gojo!" you cut him off, glaring daggers at him but like always, he simply laughed. but it wasn't funny to you, you found that decade old anger coming back and this little interaction simply fortified your misgivings about him.

clenching your jaw you held back your tongue, not wanting to embarrass yourself further. taking a deep breath you looked back at the kids, forcing your features to soften but not bothering with a smile.

"its nice to meet you all. please continue." was all you said, rather curtly which wasn't quite intended, before turning around and storming away from there. you didn't miss the absolute confusion on everyone's face yet you were far too swamped in your annoyance and embarrassment to care.

you could hear him dismissing the students before following behind you, leisure steps, no hurry, since his long strides help him catch up to your hurrying legs with ease. he swiftly cuts in your path, standing infront of you with his hands resting casually in his pockets.

"a little rude wasn't it? what would the kids think?" he teasingly murmured, bending down almost condescendingly, broad shoulders simply making you feel cornered.

you scoffed, looking at him incredulously. the absolute gall of this man. "rude? me?" you crossed your arms across your chest in defiance, "what the hell were you spouting back there? seriously gojo all these years and you didn't change—"

"satoru." he interrupted, his voice low and almost velvety, and though he wore a casual smile you couldn't help but feel a bit of irritation in it. "not gojo. satoru. we aren't strangers, sweetheart."

your eyes narrowed almost accusingly, hands twitching as if to smack him. "we aren't anything either."

"not even friends?"

"no."

"now thats a lie. friends know everything about each other." he said, almost dramatically before he bent down a bit as if to intimidate you by his stature, like that ever worked. and yet the closeness seemed to get to her, her eyes that were ablaze in irritation wavered just a fraction and nothing escapes the six eyes.

"and i know everything about you." he murmured and it was if the words died in your throat. the sheer weight of his words, the hidden longing in his voice that maybe you're imagining, the memories it brought back that you'd rather just bury.

no you don't. its been a decade satoru, you know nothing of me. so much to say and yet—

"fuck you." a pitiful attempt of a comeback, and you hated yourself for it. you hated how you were right now, emotions going haywire while your mind blanked at just his voice and you have yet to see those damn eyes. you had prided herself in how calm you'd become, how you had held herself together no matter what, how you didn't let anyone waver your emotions much less mess with your heart— and yet, here you are. acting out, losing your shit and why?

him. its always him.

his lips tug upwards, pride and satisfaction. like he knows your inner turmoil and it simply twisted that feeling of dread and regret even more. you thought he might poke fun at you again, tease but he leaned back and for once you were grateful because you can finally breathe. you looked away as you fixed your glasses, discreetly taking a deep breathe.

"the glasses just make you look hotter. suits you." he remarked amusingly, voice dripping with sin and honey. you looked back at him, you could almost feel his eyes roaming over your face. its hard to analyse him because of that stupid blindfold.

"that blindfold makes you look stupid." you bite back, frowning a bit as your eyes narrowed before huffing out a breathe. "but i guess its a blessing in disguise." now you're just being a hater, again you fail to care about that. you just wanna leave, away from him. somewhere, anywhere, before you act more like an idiot.

he didn't mind that jab one bit, instead, feigned a dramatic gasp, hand on the chest all that. "you loved my eyes."

"tastes change. people change."

"and you think you have?" he scoffed out and again, you were at a loss for words. you wanted to argue back, shoot a fitting reply, you know you can. but the conviction in his voice when he asked that, like he knows you better than you do yourself.

no he doesn't.

"yes. yes I have." you replied quietly, yet firmly staring at him right in the eyes. his smile didn't falter didn't one bit, or so you think.

"now if you'll stop bothering me." you gave him a pointed look before walking away and this time, to your relief, he didn't follow.

and unknown to you, his eyes stayed stuck to you until you disappeared and yet his senses clung to you. little did you know how fast his heart dropped when he had seen you standing there looking over at the students, looking just the same yet so much more beautiful that it hurts. little did your eyes observe how his smile softened when you weren't looking, not like you could see anyway, how his eyes behind the blindfold held none of that mirth, only longing. how much his hands twitched to just have a touch, a simple swipe of your cheeks. its embarrassing how silly he's acting, nobody would believe that he, of all, could act so lovesick. he was still in denial about the extent of his longing, the extent of yearning but he knew one thing.

now that you're here he can't lose you again.

its a weird feeling, this need— this want that he feels in his damn bones whenever he merely even thinks about you. he was okay all these years, a bit guilty but he has a lot of shit to be guilty for. it all blurred as the years passed. but one look at you and he fell down the rabbit hole again. he'll grovel, he'll do whatever.

he just needs you back.

reblogs are appreciated ♡

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

⺌☆. . . MASTERLIST ───  . DC & Marvel

☆...Original art; discount-supervillain

「 The list is updated daily. If you'd like to see a character on this list, please request it or ask in the comments if they can be added.

Below is a list of links. If at any point none of them work, please send me a message or comment below the list mentioning the issue, and I will fix it immediately. Not all links have visible warnings from the outside. Most do not have explicit warnings. However, if you're interested in any particular link, I recommend opening it and checking the warnings within each post to understand its content.

Also, if you see some titles without a link, it may be because they are not yet made or haven't been published yet.」

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Welcome to the DC Section—Tread Carefully, or Darkseid Will Get You!

─── SUPERMAN Clark Kent

☆...Reporter by day, hero by night… and also by day! The real star-man. Can lift buildings, see through walls, and give Lex Luthor a heart attack just by existing.

Its Evolution, Baby! Yandere Clark Kent x Inmortal! Reader [old post]

Quimera Yandere! Clark Kent x Android reader.

─── BATMAN Bruce Wayne

☆...Billionaire by day, vigilante by night… and apparenty, never sleeps. His superpowers? Money and being Gotham’s most wanted bachelor.

Revenant Platonic! Yandere! Bruce Wayne x neglected! Reader. (Silly Little Bat AU)

─── WONDER WOMAN Diana Prince

☆...Amazonian princess, warrior goddess, and the reason many reconsider which side they’re fighting for.

To the future Diana Prince x Wife! Preg! Reader

─── SUPERBOY Conner Kent

☆...Half Superman, half Lex Luthor—because cloning is never a good idea. Too cool for school, too powerful for his own good, and forever stuck between "punch first" and "think later."

The Jubilee Conner Kent x Jubilee! Reader

───  ROBIN Damian Wayne

☆...Batman’s son, raised by assassins, and practically immortal. His favorite hobby? Reminding everyone he’s better than them.

Ponyo! Pt.1 Pt.2 Platonic! Damian Wayne x Ponyo! Reader.

The Wildcart series pt1 pt2 pt3 Platonic!Harley Quinn x Reader | Damian Wayne x Harley Daughter! Reader

─── RED ROBIN Tim Drake

☆...The Bat-Family’s teenage detective, the smart one. He probably solved this joke before you even finished reading it.

Nothing yet...

─── RED HOOD Jason Todd

☆...Once: Robin. Now: a guy with guns, authority issues, and serious family drama… well, just with his dad.

Nothing yet...

───  NIGHTWING Dick Grayson

☆...The original Boy Wonder with the best backside in comics. Leads teams, breaks hearts, and jumps rooftops like a pro.

Pierrot, the Sad Clown Yandere! Dick Grayson x Villainess! Reader

The Playboy Yandere! Student! Dick Grayson x depressed! Reader

─── ORPHAN / BATGIRL Cassandra Cain

☆...Doesn’t talk much, but doesn’t need to when she can take you down with a single look. Relax, she already knows everything about you.

Atelophobia Cassandra Cain x Asian! Fem reader!

─── HARLEY QUINN Harleen Quinzel

☆...From psychiatrist to villain, to hero, to whatever she wants to be today. Chaotic yet charming—everyone’s favorite girl

The Wildcart series pt1 pt2 pt3 Platonic!Harley Quinn x Reader | Damian Wayne x Harley Daughter! Reader

Sororal Platonic! Harley Quinn x Reader

─── POISON IVY Pamela Isley

☆...An eco-terrorist with style. Loves plants, eats meat, and hates humans… except for Harley. But let’s be real, Harley doesn’t really count as human.

But I, love Ivy Pamela Isley x Reader (Silly Little Bat)

Death in Bloom Pamela Isley x Male! Reader

─── LIVEWIRE Leslie L. Willem

☆...The rebel radio host with more voltage than a lightning storm. Don’t touch her unless you like frizzy hair… or want to risk your life!

Voicenote Leslie L. Willem x Male! Reader

Marvel’s Mightiest! Starting with Squirrel Girl—Because Even Galactus Fears Her!

─── WINTER SOLDIER Bucky Barnes

☆...Ex-sidekick, ex-brainwashed assassin, current broody guy with a metal arm. Still figuring things out.

Little Soldier Yandere! Platonic! Winter Soldier! Bucky Barnes x Supersoldier! Teen! Reader

Welcome to the 80's Yandere! Platonic! Steven Rogers x reader x Yandere! Platonic! Bucky Barnes

─── CAPTAIN AMERICA Steve Rogers

☆...Super-soldier, shield thrower, and America’s best boy scout. Can do this all day. He loves cookies...a lot.

Welcome to the 80's Platonic! Steven Rogers x reader x Platonic! Bucky Barnes

─── SPIDER-MAN Peter Parker & variants

☆...Wall-crawling, web-slinging, wise-cracking menace (according to J. Jonah Jameson). The amazing Spiderman!Just trying to balance life, rent, and saving New York...or Japan...or England, they are so many Spiders today! Damn multiverse!

Lacrymose Yandere! Cheater! Miguel O'Hara x Wife! Reader

─── VENOM Eddie Brock

☆...A journalist, a monster, and kind of a lethal protector. Likes brains, hates Spider-Man a lot.

The Monster Platonic Venom x Reader

─── SQUIRREL GIRL Doreen Green

☆...The unbeatable, unbreakable, unmatchable Squirrel Girl! She’s taken down Thanos, Galactus, and probably you in your sleep.

Balter Platonic! Doree Green x Mutant! Reader

─── PROFESSOR X Charles Xavier

☆...Mind-reader, mentor, and leader of the X-Men. Has a dream of mutant-human peace—if only Magneto would stop ruining it.

The Song of the Raven series Pt1 Pt2 Yandere! Platonic!Charles Xavier x Raven! reader x Yandere! Platonic! Erik Lehnsherr

─── MAGNETO Erik Lehnsherr

☆...Master of magnetism, enemy-turned-ally-turned-enemy-again. Probably right about mutants, but also probably too dramatic about it.

The Song of the Raven series Pt1 Pt2 Yandere! Platonic!Charles Xavier x Raven! reader x Yandere! Platonic! Erik Lehnsherr

Fata Morgana Yandere Erik Lehnsherr x Chubby! Witch! Reader

─── CYCLOPS Scott Summers

☆...The guy who can’t take off his sunglasses—unless he wants to level a city block. Team leader, rule follower, Jean Grey’s eternal headache!..or not.

Devil in Paradise Yandere! Scott Summers x Mutant!Reader

Little Pebble Yandere! Platonic! Scott Summers x Mutant!Reader

Bag of bones Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.

─── GAMBIT Remy LeBeau

☆...The smooth-talking, card-throwing Cajun thief. Can make anything explode—especially hearts.

Black Sheep Yandere! Platonic! Remy LeBeau x reader.

─── NIGHTCRAWLER Kurt Wagner

☆...A teleporting, acrobatic, demon-looking sweetheart. More Catholic guilt than your grandma. He's a baby boy.

Lurks Within Walls Yandere Kurt Wagner x Mutant! Reader

Nocturnal Animal Yandere Kurt Wagner x Wife! Reader

─── BEAST Hank McCoy

☆...A genius, a gentleman, and a giant blue fuzzball. Talks like Shakespeare, fights like a beast.

Savior Complex Yandere Hank McCoy x reader

─── STORM Ororo Munroe

☆...Controls the weather, commands respect, and makes every entrance legendary. A literal goddess.

My Pearl Yandere! Platonic! Ororo Munroe x Clon! Reader

─── PHOENIX Jean Grey

☆...Omega-level psychic, cosmic firebird, occasional planet-destroyer. She dies and comes back more often than a soap opera character.

Mourning Sun Yandere! Platonic! Jean Grey x Telepath! Reader

─── ROGUE Anna Marie

☆...One touch and she steals your powers, memories, and maybe your soul. Southern charm with a serious "hands-off" policy.

All I Wanted Anna Marie x Inmune! Reader

─── STAR-LORD Peter Quill

☆...Space outlaw, mixtape enthusiast, and self-proclaimed legendary hero. Usually messing things up in the best way possible.

Ramé Peter Quill x Astronaut! Reader

Nova Peter Quill x Alien! Reader

This part is under maintenance!

And finally, DOCTOR DOOM . Because all stories should end with Doom… at least according to him.

[coff33notforme]

Healing!Re2 Leon

A/n: So so sorry I haven't posted anything in so long, I genuinely lost my love for writing for I think its been officially been a year since I last wrote something for fun. Don't fact check me on that, but I'm back! I'm trying to let myself just have fun with writing and not take myself so seriously so please be patient with me! Expect a lot of Resident Evil content from me! And don't be afraid to request! I'll be sure to update my request chart!

Summary: Takes place between re2 and re4! Basically just what happened to him after Raccoon city.

Notes: Headcannons, fluff mostly, themes of depression, alcoholism, body issues, gender neutral reader as usual!

Nothing could've prepared you for the look on his face when he arrived home. Opening your door for him at 11:00 at night, his face silhouetted by the gentle light of your porch lamp. His pale eyes seemed to be looking through you, his face tight with the unconscious clenching of his jaw, his adams apple bobbing faintly. The hum of your porch light filling your head.

Well, that was before you were cupping his face, you couldn't even remember the movement forward, all you could take in was the impact of his embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around you, and if it wasn't for the fact it was twenty degrees out, you'd say he was shaking.

Safe to say he'd move in with you after everything that happened, he needed that sense of security, that familiarity that he'd swear was almost entirely lost on him. He was wordlessly welcomed back into your life.

Though it wasn't all the same, he'd hope it would be, God he really wished. It was weird, having him back around, he was quiet, not in an awkward kind of way, he just didn't feel the need to make his presence known. This isn't to say he doesn't engage in conversation with you, he'll just need more of an obvious cue that you'd like to spark a conversation with him.

Leon won't exactly know what to do with himself, he tried giving himself a week to adjust, then back to the drawing board, that's what he told you. You assured him there was no pressure to jump right back into employment, he'd been through something truly life changing, I mean, it took you two whole months to just get over your dog running away in highshcool.

He'd brush it off of course, he wasn't devastated, at least, not in the way you described, it wouldn't even be anything hard, just something simple. Like retail.

That lasted about two weeks, the first week itself just being job searching, but once he got into the flow and rhythm of stacking supplies in the back of some chain line grocery store, he'd have to quit. That kind of meaningless repetitive work only fed into his existential crisis that had been put on the back burner for far too long.

He'd call you crying during his shift, you'd have to pick him up, parking somewhere close so you could calm him down, he'd spill everything out to you. Rambling on and on about not wanting to spend the prime of his life stacking cans and rearranging produce.

Well at least that's how far he got before embarrassment came crawling up his back, digging its nails into his throat until it felt so tight he couldn't speak.

The drive home would be quiet, not the comfortable kind.

He'd spend a lot of time at home, long enough to where you not its not a phase, and that he's not not getting out of bed without an intervention of some kind.

He admits after weeks of obvious reluctance that he's not ready to work again, he just needs time. You assure him that its completely fine, though you're not entirely sure how much that statement holds true you don't mind picking up some extra shifts if it means comfortably supporting you both.

But that isn't to say he doesn't contribute at all, he's the one preparing all the meals every week. He's the one taking trips to the store, jotting down meal ideas on the pen pad you'd gotten him after the silent acceptance that he'd taken to doing all the cooking.

This goes for chores too, though he wouldn't take to that immediately, he's not used to viewing the house as more then somewhere he eats and sleeps, its only after a comment from you about the disarray of the living room would spark him into action.

After that you haven't seen a speck of dust grace your living room floors since. It's the least he could do since you're funding his identity crisis, well that's what he thinks.

Leon struggles with healthy attachment, he's still not used to the idea that he won't wake up and you'll be gone. Though this doesn't mean he's completely distant.

He does little things to show how much he cares. Like waking up early to prepare your breakfast with a warm cup of coffee, or how he always asks you first what you'd like for dinner.

Though he won't admit it, most days are a struggle. Not every day, but those are the ones where he gets to spend some quality time with you, or he washes it off with a can of beer or two.

He'd hate himself to admit it to you, but he's developed a bit of a drinking problem with all that time at home.

Though once you notice the amount of cans piling up in the recycling he'd guiltily admit that he's been using it to cope, though he doesn't say exactly with what.

You'd encourage him to take up therapy, though he'd hastily deny, you offered him to at least think about it, though the very idea of opening up to a stranger about his problems seemed absolutely absurd.

After a bit of time though, especially when you express your concern with his drinking, he yields. 

Of course with the excessive eating of comfort foods and now only occasional drinking, he’d developed a bit of a dad bod. He didn’t seem to notice at first, but one morning it seems to hit him all at once when he inspects himself in the mirror.

He’ll fiddle and prod at the soft pudge dripping from his sides, like the melted wax of a candle. His doughy thighs pressed together. He’s not really sure how to react, all he feels is this sort of disconnection from himself, like the person in the mirror isn’t really him. 

He’ll avoid it for months, but the changes are clear to you whether he knows or not. But it doesn’t fail to hit you that he hasn’t walked around without a shirt in weeks, not just a shirt, but the kind that completely engulfs his figure, until he’s practically swimming in material. 

You’ll have to intervene at some point, he’ll feel the weight of guilt pressing down onto his shoulders until he humbly admits, yeah, he doesn’t like the way his body looks anymore. You’ll need to have a conversation with him, assure him that it’s okay to gain weight, you don’t love him less just because he’s a little more soft around the middle. 

He’ll need you to gently coax him into being more comfortable with showing his body around you. Gently holding his hips when he's making his coffee in the morning, leaning into him when he hugs you, telling him when you think he looks nice. Just little things that really do boost his confidence. 

After months of unwavering support from you, he’ll notice the lack of disdain he feels when glancing at his reflection on passing surfaces. He'll be comfortable enough to let his belly breathe from time to time when walking around the house, maybe even offering to shower with you when given the chance. 

Of course, progress isn’t linear, he’ll have his days where he wishes more than anything the fat clinging to his frame would melt, like snow dripping from a rooftop against the breath of the morning sun. 

But at least now he feels comfortable admitting to you he isn’t always happy being in his own skin, and he knows you won’t try to correct his thoughts, rather then simply reassure him. He’s far from perfect, but more then anything you’re just glad he’s here.

©️ coff33notforme 2025 please don’t feed into any ai chatbot, or repost my content.Please reblog is you enjoyed! It means a lot!

[repressionmd]

a selection of housefics i love!

i will make a part 2 when i reach character limit :D currently there is just 11 fics here but i WILL be updating!

Playtime's Over or The One Where Cuddy Forces House to See a Child Psychologist - mskullgirl

author summary: Following the events of "Skin Deep" (season 2, episode 13) House spirals out of control and stops eating and sleeping. Cuddy eventually offers him a deal; five sessions with Dr. Addams, the hospital's resident child psychologist, in exchange for three months off of clinic duty. What could go wrong? word count: 48k my notes: SO GOOD!! such a fun analysis of house and it has potentially my favourite accidental child acquisition of all time

Everything He Wants - the_northwind

author summary: House discovers that Wilson is a better coping mechanism than Vicodin. There's no way this could go wrong. A rewrite of the season six finale and beyond where instead of Cuddy, Wilson goes to House's apartment after the crane collapse. word count: 11k my notes: has one of my favourite hilson fic argument scenes. they're dysfunctional and messy and SO in character i couldn't recommend enough

Hypothesis - IreneSpring

author summary: At the beginning of the month, James Wilson decides to break out of his depressive spiral by having an affair with the first woman who is not needy. By the end of the month, he is facing an existential crisis decades in the making. word count: 15k my notes: haha wilson you are gay (jokes aside this fic is actually so fun and silly and made me LAUGH at the hoops our wilson jumps through to eventually realise he didn't get anywhere anyway)

Under My Skin - rhythmofsnow

author summary: Thirteen has a meltdown. House is there to ground her through it. (Post 5x05 "Lucky Thirteen") word count: 1.4k my notes: caring house my beloved... autistic solidarity my even more beloved <3

Composed - ferretwhomst

author summary: compose verb /kəmˈpəʊz/ 1. calm or settle (oneself or one's features or thoughts). 2. write or create (a work of art, especially music or poetry). or: a sick, restless Wilson finds himself in need of House’s company late at night. House indulges him. word count: 2.2k my notes: SO BEAUTIFUL.... wilson is so gay and so melodramatic and house matches his freak so well and WRITES HIM A PIANO PIECE....... they're so soft with each other idk its just beautiful. please read this

Soothe me now, soothe me, old friend (eng) - culturenana

author summary: Wilson would love to – Wilson would like to do so many things, make the most of countless wasted opportunities, erase every mistake, since his time has shortened without any warning, cruelly consuming itself under every cough. / House holds him close as if he is about to slip from his arms, and neither of them has the courage to discern what this thing between them is. There is no excuse or rational diagnosis that could cover it up. word count: 7.2k my notes: oh my god this fic made me want to bawl its so beautifully written and i have been shying away from post-finale fics purely to save myself the heartbreak but im SO glad i didn't do that with this one. they mean everything to me ;-;

'Samson's Mistress Cut His Hair, Thus Removing His Strength' - Sparklesinthewater

author summary: Set in season 3. Stacy doesn't come back. Tritter doesn't interfere. But the drugs and the infarction keep getting House into trouble anyway. Wilson is trying his best (but his best may not be what's best for House). / Or, House gets himself a girlfriend. Life goes downhill from there. word count: a beautiful 129k my notes: hello? hello!!!! can anyone hear me!! fic of all time!!!! a novel in its own right, and i did in fact stay up till 3.30am finishing it. impossible to put down and did make me want to cry in places. absolutely stunning. would recommend to everyone

a thousand teeth (and yours among them) - itooaminthisepisode (anarchy_opossum)

author summary: Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back. word count: 10k my notes: GORGEOUS STUFF!! amazing characterisation with lovely internal voices <3 they're so them and it makes me so happy

i let you win, i love to lose - sesamie

author summary: a short thing inspired by the thought, "what if amber and wilson's sex tape was ***for house***?" it seems like exactly the kind of toxic manipulative thing amber would pull and bring wilson along for. so here it is! set after the finale of season 4, and wilson and house haven't spoken about everything yet. things are bad between them and that's where the angst in this comes from! word count: 4.6k my notes: this fic did irreparable things to my psyche i mean ACTUALLY i do find myself thinking about it as im going about my day. genuinely was blown away by the sheer power of the prose i'll be honest 😭

we peeled the freckles from our shoulders - flowersinapril

author summary: Greg is twenty-three and James is nineteen when they first meet as counsellors at a sleepaway camp in the Adirondacks. word count: 2.1k my notes: GOD THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL... AAAHHHHHH i dont even have any words. please read this. crops watered joy delivered will to live restored etc. oh my god.

I'd Make a Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) - TheFandomLesbian

author summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. / In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband. word count: 11.3k my notes: HOLY FUCK.. obsessed and i mean Obsessed with love as religious Especially when it comes to gregory 'religion is meaningless' house like this was so... good. it was so good. house is so desperate and so in love and its the most delicious thing ever

[mochamadeleines]

Sins, Two Through Four <3

Javi doesnt do good girls. Literally and figuratively.

Theyre nice, sure. Honeyed voices and beautiful eyes. But theyre just not for him. He prefers to stick with what he knows best. Messy, broken, women who are looking to distract themselves with him and his body. Sharp eyes topped with heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow. Women who know what to do with him.

Hes been soiled by the world, therefore belongs with others whove met the same fate. But, hes okay with that. (3.3k words)

tags!! 18+ javier peña x reader ! one shot! inoccent reader i guess?, no set era just vaguely somewhere in the late 80s early 90s :p, since its like entirely from his perspective hes only referred to as Javi and not javier sorry if that bothers u </3, corruption, religious allegories, steve and connie r there for five seconds, dubious I suppose cuz they be drinking, smut but its not like Good and its also there for about five second lolol.., p in v sex, blow jobs, rough sex, lots of depressing internal dialogue for javi Uhhhhhh, Sus thoughts abt causing harm to u I GUESS?? Toxic javi of course lol. kinda bad boy x good girl concept here but he wants to make u WORSE. mannn idk, some dom/sub dynamics if u squinttt

authors notes!! hi! Ok my first Javi fic LOOOOL been binging narcos and i had to take a break from my joel fic in the works to write this shit. I SPENT THE ENTIRE DAY PUMPING THIS OUT AHHHHH Beinf as that ive been working on it For One whole day it may not b my best work but i still had fun!! i kinda like the religious allegories Uhh IM NOT RELIGIOUS OR SCHOLARYLY OR ANYTHING so take whatever i reference with a grain of artsy salt.. enjoy!!!!

Javi doesnt do good girls. Literally and figuratively.

Theyre nice, sure. Honeyed voices and beautiful eyes. But theyre just not for him. He prefers to stick with what he knows best. Messy, broken, women who are looking to distract themselves with him and his body. Sharp eyes topped with heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow. Women who know what to do with him.

Hes been soiled by the world, therefore belongs with others whove met the same fate. But, hes okay with that. 

That brings him to now, at this crowded bar with Steve, later Connie. And you, he guesses. Hes never met you but hes heard of you. Tonight youre tagging along so thats that.

Anyways, Steve is updating him on his daughter and something else about enrolling her in private school but New York City is wildly expensive. Javis caught the eye of a pretty brunette further away from the bar hes sitting at. Shes in a black miniskirt begging to get taken off.

“Stop eye-fuckin’ her, Im talkin’ to you.”

“Relax, Im listening.” Javi takes another drag from his cigarette, tapping away the ash into a tray.”Youre a hard worker, Im sure you can find a way to move up and earn a little more for Olivias private schooling.”

Steve sighs, nursing his beer as he thinks. “Maybe. Just dont wanna be away from her more than i have to be.”

“Mm.”

The brunette beckons him over, and Javi is already sliding off the stool to meet her. “Ill be r-”

“Steve!” 

Connie is here, and so is her-

Friend? 

Youre wearing a baby blue slip with sheer white tights and a thin, white cardigan. Youre pretty. Its only when you introduce yourself and he meets your eyes that hes sure. Youre good. And he doesnt do good. Youre not his type, Javi decides. Lame.

He moves down a seat so you can sit next to Connie whos also next to Steve, and you seem nervous. He gets the feeling you dont come out to places like this a lot. Its too.. Grungy. People smoke inside and get crazy drunk and dance. Probably not your speed. Youre easy to read.

Steve, “Remind me again how you know each other?”

“From work! Shes a nurse.” Connie smiles at Steve first, and then to you. A nurse, of course. Because youre good and its practically oozing off of you. Maybe hes wrong. He hopes hes wrong. Only because youre so pretty, with pretty pink blush and lipgloss. 

You now, “I work in pediatrics.”

You work with children? Jesus christ.

You help people- help your community and take care of children. Javi had to watch children die, over and over, all too complicit each time it happens. No, youre not his type. Hes not into angels. Javi is far from holy and isnt about to desecrate you.

Then there's this feeling that starts to stir in his gut. An ugly feeling that wants to scratch through flesh and bone to get out.  He takes the final drag of his cigarette before smushing it into the ashtray. Why do you bother him so much? Maybe its because upon your arrival that pretty brunette he was eyeing disappeared. A real shame.

But youre here, and your breasts are softly spilling over the neckline of your dress, and while the length is enough to cover your ass when youre standing, the way it looks while youre sitting is a whole different story. Youre good eye candy. Glass half full thinking.

He clears his throat. “How long-” 

The bartender interrupts with a pearly smile. Hes asking if you want anything and hes obviously into you. Annoyingly so.

While youre ordering, Steve and Connie walk away to dance, and Connie stops by Javi, dipping her head to his ear. “Please, please dont fuck my friend.”

Ironic.

“Dont worry,” He leans his elbow on the counter, finishing the rest of his whiskey. “Shes not my type. Go have fun.”

You order three shots of vodka and apple juice. Its a little cute the way you hold your nose while you down each shot and chase it with some juice. Javis on his next glass of whiskey, watching how some of your drink rolls down your collar bone and into the valley of your breasts.

The sight of you is downright sinful. Its not fair.

“You need another shot or are you good now?”

Youre laughing, batting your hand dismissively. “No, No. Im good. I hate alcohol so I wanted to get this part over with and loosen up a little.”

“You dont have to drink it if you dont want to.”

“I like being drunk, just not drinking.”

“Fair enough.”

You fold your hands in your lap, and spin your seat side to side. “You were asking me something earlier?”

“How long have you been a nurse?”

“Three years now. I was working at a different hospital until recently. Thats how I met Connie.”

“Ah.”

“And you? What do you do?”

Javi lets the silence linger a bit. Fuck it. “Uh, CIA- but im retired now.”

“Oh- Yes! Right! Connie- She told me. Im sorry, you probably dont wanna talk about it.”

This is what makes his gums start itching. Most women- who are just as tragic as him- just bat their lashes and tell him its sexy he works for the government.

But you- Youre good. So you actually care about how hes feeling, and arent just trying to fuck him. Maybe that could change?- Ugh- No- no. Just no. Youll be ruined. Youd get dirty and thatd weigh him down like everything else does. Plus, Connie told him not to.

“Um. Have you done anything fun recently? Aside from all that?” Cute how you try to change the subject to spare his feelings.

Javi breaks open a new pack of cigarettes, slipping one out and putting it between his lips, then flicks his lighter on. Once, twice. A fifth time. No dice. The fucking thing ran out fluid. 

“Fuck,” He grumbles.

“Ah! Hold on!”

An eyebrow is raised.

You dig through your purse, and pull out a disposable lighter. You thumb the sparkwheel a couple times to get the flame going.

“Do you mind?”

Javi hums no and leans forward. You do too, cupping your hand over the flame in case it goes out. It lights, and he gets a good drag in.

“Thank you.”

“Youre welcome.” And youre smiling again and Javi wants to shake you around and see where youre hiding your halo. Hes good at getting information out of people. He could get you to confess.

“Any reason you carry around a lighter?”

“Uhh. For medicinal purposes.”

“Cheeky.”

You spin in your chair once, all the way around then wobble when you stop. Javi shoots his arm out to grab yours and keep you steady. 

“Careful.” 

“Thanks.” A short breath. “Still think I need another shot?”

Javi smirks. “Oh, definitely.”

And youre ordering two shots. Bold.

“To answer your question, I havent done any fun things, no- Oh actually, you know what? I went to the art museum the other day.”

“The MET?”

“Mhm.” 

“I went there a few months ago! Its beautiful isnt it? Do you have a favorite exhibit?”

“Probably European sculptures. The ones under the skylights were my favorite.”

“Yeah, those are beautiful.” You look off, dreamy. 

Youre a childrens nurse, youre bad at drinking, you like art, and Javier feels sick just sitting next to you. Theres so much ugly out there, hes sure youre aware, and yet youre as bright as ever infront of him. Youd probably fit right in with The Triumph of the Church. 

 Theres only one word that can describe that ugly feeling swirling in him. 

Envy. He wishes he could be as untouchable as you feel right now.

Theres a push and pull. He wants to taste your lips and roll up your dress and roughen you up, but he cant- he shouldnt. You dont deserve to get felt up by someone so unclean.

And yet,

Your beautiful smile, one that always reaches your eyes, and your precious laugh, and the way youve been nervously playing with your hands this entire time makes him want to break you. To rip those wings out and keep you from flying. 

Javi really is devilish.

“Okay, shot time!” You push one of the glasses towards him. 

“Im not taking a shot,” He takes another puff from the cigarette, then lets it rest on the ashtray.

“C’mon, Javier! Pleeeeeaaaase?” 

“Javi.” He emphasizes.

“Okay.” You nod, “Javi, please?”

“Fine.”

Alright, alright. It didnt take much, but to be fair ‘please’ and ‘Javi’ just sound so good together when you say it. 

Clink! 

You count to three, and together you take the shot. Javi only grimaces at the taste and youre scrambling for the juice after letting go of your nose. Youre so damn messy about it too. Javi gets the bartender to get some napkins.

“I think I'm done,” You cough.

“I think youre done too.” He smiles, “Do you normally spill your drinks on yourself?” 

You patiently hold still while Javi wipes down your mouth, then your chin, then your collarbone, careful to not get too close to your chest. He eyes the dainty necklace that carries your first name initial. 

“Noooo, it all just happens so fast, you know? Oh! And thank you for cleaning me up.” Youre smacking your lips together, “Ah shit, my gloss.” 

“Yeah, looks like you ate it all in the chaos.” He glances over at the four shot glasses, all stained.

You groan after digging through your purse. “Fuck, I left my compact at home.”

“Being a girl seems hard.”

“It is.” You sigh, albeit dramatic. “Ill be back.”

You slide off the stool and almost eat shit actually. At least Javi is there to catch you. Again. This might be a recurring theme tonight considering how many drinks you had. Must be a lightweight.

“Im sorry- Fuck, Im so sorry,” Youre laughing again, and it gets a laugh out of him too. Back on the stool you go.

“If you fall again Im not gonna catch you.”

“Thats okay, I wouldnt catch me either.” 

Javi thinks for a moment, curious. 

“I could, yknow, put the gloss on you. If you want.”

“Really? Youd do that?”

Your eyes are big and bright, lashes accentuated by your mascara. The way you look at him makes him feel oddly special. Its not sultry, or wanting. You have this natural allure to you. Angelic. That alone makes him want to touch you again. To yank you down from the clouds.

“Yeah, gimmie the gloss.”

You put it in his palm and lean towards him. Javi messes with the applicator, listening to the squish of product inside the tube. Seems easy enough.

Javi situates himself more comfortably in the chair, then holds your chin as he applies it. Youre well behaved the entire time, like he expected, except for the fact that you lost your balance again and gripped onto his thigh to keep you from falling. He clears his throat. There are blaring alarms in his head telling him to put distance between you both.

“Sorry.”

“Its alright. I dont mind.”

You swallow nervously. Any angel would be nervous if they were this close to an agent of hell. Get it? Agent?

Javi tucks away the fly aways first. The applicator swipes across your bottom lip, and hes squinting at the little sparkles in the gloss. Its a nice touch. His thumb rubs away any excess to keep it neat.

“Good job for not falling again.” 

“I had some help.” And youre both grinning now.

“Mkay, all done.” 

You smack your lips, nodding. “Thank you.”

This is the moment where Javi should let you go. He should excuse himself and find someone who isnt you, someone whos filthy just like him, and have them instead.

You tilt your head in his palm, letting him cradle your face.

But youre so pretty, and youre so sweet, and youre right there. 

That feeling from earlier is bubbling up again, the need to ruin you. You might look prettier covered in bite marks and sweat, with your hair messed up and your recently applied gloss all gone. Again. 

He shouldnt.

But then again, what are sinners even good for if not this? Converting others and carrying on the missions of the Devil himself, you know, the works. Fuck, its not like he wasnt doing it anyways. Shout out to the government.

Javi observes you, trying to make a decision. “Hey,” 

“Hiii.” 

“Can I take you home?” 

Its was easy, and you were so well behaved about it too. You did a little nervous yapping on the way to his apartment but it was cute. He learned you had a pet cat, and he tells you about the dog he grew up with. You talk about the shitty weather recently and Javi tells you he got rained on and slipped going up the stairs. It settles your nerves. Good. His phone keeps ringing in the glove compartment, but he just tells you to ignore it. Steve no doubt.

He makes sure to hold your hand on the way up to his apartment, giving it a squeeze before he lets go to open the door.

Javi’s heart never usually pounds this hard bringing any woman to his place, and its downright sinnister how excited he is. 

When the door closes, you both leave your shoes at the door. 

“Want anything? I dont have any apple juice but I can give you orange juice? Water if you want that instead?” 

“Orange juice sounds good.”

You begin to linger about his living room. Youre probably getting a feel for how impersonal it all is. Plain. His room is a bit more interesting, at least. 

Javi hands you the glass and shucks off his leather jacket, draping it over one of the kitchen chairs.

The first time he kisses you, is while walking through to the entrance of his bedroom. One hand gripping your hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He swallows ever whimper, every sigh, every squeak until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Javi pulls away, watching the string of spit snap and cling to your bottom lip.

“Are you good at following directions?”

“Yes-Yes. I am.” You choke out.

Now sat on the bed, “Great. On your knees then.” 

Tonight, youre going to pray. Youre going to sing.

You hesitate to get down, but do it with no complaints. Javi stretches over to the bedside table, grabbing a spare pack of cigarettes and lighter. 

Your eyes are on him, patiently waiting for another command. 

He continues to smoke at a leisurely pace, petting your head and caressing the apples of your cheeks. Youre leaning into his hand affectionately again.

Youre hit with some of the excess smoke he breathes out, coughing a bit. 

“Javi-”

“No more talking. Understand?”

A beat passes, and you nod again, only shuffling forward to rest your head on the inside of his thigh. Javi taps away the ash.

“Good girl.”

You stay down there for a little while, only squirming and wiggling to relieve the soreness settling into your knees. You dont talk, you dont whine, you dont go grabbing at him. You stay put because he didnt tell you to do anything else. Youre good. Angels are loyal to a fault.

When you do get a command, youre perking up like a dog. Cute. Javis telling you to take his cock out.

You go for it, and he tuts at you. “Do it slow.”

And so, youre doing it slowly now, pulling out the leather from under the buckle, opening it up and then popping open the button to his jeans. Your lips press into a thin line, looking up at him for reassurance.

“Go on.”

His zipper is pulled down at a snails pace, and your eyes widen at the lack of underwear. No surprise there. Javi sighs when you take him your hand. 

He lets you feel him up curiously, your thumb wisping over his flushed tip, smearing along the white beads gathering there. 

“Put it in your mouth.”

You stiffen, unsure. Javis reminded that youre good and you probably dont do this kind of thing a lot. 

“Its not hard, nena. Promise. Want me to teach you?”

Youre nodding now, more eagerly.

“Start by kissing it.”

Tentatively, you kiss starting from the bottom up- That much you know how to do- So its a good start. He sighs out the last bit of smoke and stretches over to the bedside again to put out the cigarette. 

After kissing, youre licking, and after licking, youre finally trying to swallow him. He groans, holding the back of your head and coaxing you to take more.

You gag, backing out to catch your breath then taking him in again.

“Jus’ like that- Fuck-”

And somehow the slight inexperience gives you the upperhand. You want to be good for him, and your  clumsy hands are doing as much as they can to make up for your lack of deep-throating capabilities.

Its when you suck harshly on the head that he hunches forward with a gasp. “Yeah-Yes.”

You do it again, and again, and hes so fucking close now but he stops you. Not yet.

“You did good.” Javi reassures you. “Get up.”

You wobble up onto your feet and hes pulling you into a kiss, hands exploring you all over with urgency. He needs it now, to do what he wanted to do at the bar when he first started talking to you. He needs to drag you down with him.

Javi pulls your cardigan off, and then your dress, and as more layers of your clothing come off the more he cant wait. Youre moaning under his tongue, only squirming when he nips at the flesh of your torso, leaving a trail of blossoming bruises in his wake. He tells you to lay down and you follow accordingly. 

Javi kisses up your stomach, and the junction between your neck and shoulder. You almost speak, almost. And it has his dick harder than he thought it could get. Youre still obeying. Fucking incredible.

He pulls your hips forward, making you whimper. A finger traces through your folds, and he practically gushes with pride just feeling what hes done to you so far. He hasnt even gotten to the best part.

“Talk to me,”

Youre babbling now, “K-Keep touching me- Dont stop. Please, Javi.” There it is again. ‘Please’ and ‘Javi’. He cant say no to someone whos been so reverent thus far.

He rewards you by tracing soft circles around your clit, watching the way your abdomen flexes at the pressure. The combination of nervousness and arousal has your thighs quaking around his forearm. You give in so easy. 

Javi tells you to lay on your stomach, Then, hes pressing kisses up your spine to soothe you. To sedate you. 

You practically crumble when his cock reaches all the way inside you. This is it. Hes going to rip those obnoxious fucking wings out of your back.

“Javi,” You wheeze, clawing at the sheets. His hand sits on the nape of your neck to keep you pinned down. Javi grunts, doubling forward over your back. Its almost like hes punishing your guts just because youre you. 

He grabs your wrists instead, pulling them behind your back and anchoring himself with one hand. The other curls into your hair, yanking your head up from the pillow you covered in drool. 

You sob, trembling when Javi buries himself to the hilt. Hes panting over your neck like a dog, licking and nipping there like one too.

“Thank you,” You sniffle, twisting your neck to get a glimpse of him. Your mascaras running down your face. Humble, even in the face of your own sacrilege. 

Javi shushes you with a sloppy kiss. Hell only accept your thanks when hes finally run you dry.

Tonight is the night you fell from grace. All because of him.

[k-s-morgan]

It's been a long time, I hope you're okay.

Hello! Thank you so much <3

Honestly, this month was tough - my family brought my last surviving grandmother home to us (she was living in a city that's being destroyed by Russia, so it was increasingly dangerous for her to stay there). However, she passed away 4 days later. And then my oldest pigeon passed away, too.

I think I might be depressed on a deeper level than I thought. There were two weeks of mostly-no-explosions in Kyiv, and I could use this time to finally finish the Tomarry update and resume working on my Black Butler story. And I wanted to, but I just couldn't. I have been struggling with getting myself out of bed and doing even the most basic things.

I was hoping I'd feel better with time, but nope, the strange blankness is still there. And now we are under daily attacks again. Three people died last night in a drone attack: a 5 year-old, her father, and an old woman. She was trapped in her burning apartment.

A warning - this is a terrifying video.

That's the daily risk we all have to take. Being scared all the time is exhausting. Death after death after death - it just doesn't end.

Today I grew utterly fed up with myself, though, so now I'm trying to kick myself back to life. I hope to have better news about updates soon - I already started writing again, and what do you know, the moment I did, I felt so happy and excited. The most difficult thing is to make myself sit down and start, and I'm determined to keep doing it.

On another positive note, I've been making my way through your recs and I found a mafia-centered drama I liked. Many of you have probably watched it already - it's called KinnPorsche. There were many corny moments, but I still enjoyed it a lot, and I loved all three of its ships (though the psychopath/his victim from the rival family were the ones who won my heart). I was always interested in mafia settings, and finally I have something to scream about)

[outofconcheol]

bloodline (JWW x F!Reader) - Teaser

pairing: vampire professor!wonwoo x TA!reader

genres/aus/rating: romance, angst, smut, fantasy au, 18+

summary: Cursed to a solitary existence, Wonwoo seeks a cure for his condition - enlisting the help of his diligent teacher's assistant. However, you refuse to let Professor Jeon go through with the cure without first teaching him the wonders of having something worth living for. When your tired souls find solace in your shared loneliness, friendship (and something more) blooms. But what happens when that isn’t enough? When the secrets that both you and Wonwoo have been harboring finally catch up to you? Will you and Wonwoo make the most of every moment, or will the aftermath of his quest leave you both even lonelier than before?

warnings (to be updated with final fic): tw: this fic deals with Wonwoo being tired of his vampirism and essentially wanting to end his life as a vampire (whatever that may entail - stay tuned), mentions blood, Wonwoo has dark and depressing thoughts, that's all for now but just know we are in for a ride :)

word count: 619 for the teaser, TBD for final fic

a/n: I've been thinking about this for a long time, and with me wanting to write more for SVT, I decided it was finally time to take the plunge! Please note that this is going to be an angsty journey, with lots of inspiration from pieces such as Thirst (2009), Only Lovers Left Alive (2013), and the Vampire Tapestry by Suzie McKee Charnas. As always, if these themes are not for you, please take care of yourself (your wellbeing comes first always). Also, thank you to the lovely sèvn (@aaagustd/@xscoupsx) for the banner. I hope you enjoy!

The bust sits in the corner of the office, nestled away in an alcove by the window. On sunnier days, when the light would hit it, the marble would reflect brilliantly, its ivory tones taking the appearance of an angel, a silent guardian watching over Wonwoo while he worked. Most of the time, it loomed in the shadows, its unsettling presence doing nothing more than to serve as a reminder that despite his physical appearance, Wonwoo was closer to the cold, unfeeling marble than he was to any of the human peers he’d encountered through the centuries.

Wonwoo can’t recall when in his travels he’d come across the statue, eight hundred years blurring together into a muddle, countless memories fading into oblivion, delicate threads disappearing in the intricate fabric of his mind. Maybe at one point it’d been a gift from a dear friend, or maybe even a lover, but Wonwoo simply couldn’t remember any of it at all. A lifetime of indulgence and hedonism meant that seeking pleasure had long lost its charm.

What more was there to study when Wonwoo had studied it all? From stepping into battle during the middle ages, joining the height of enlightenment during the Renaissance, and witnessing the advent of modern technology in the past century or so, Wonwoo had lingered in the background, slipping easily into the folds of human society. And it all lead him here, to this room that felt more like a box than an office, sifting through countless essays from a batch of college students who were as disinterested in learning about anthropology as Wonwoo had become with his own life.

Even now, he casts his gaze over to his faint reflection in the window, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, lean and lonely-looking. To the untrained eye, professor Jeon Wonwoo was the picture of innocence, milking the image of a solitary bachelor devoted to pursuing a lifetime of knowledge, much to the chagrin of many of his pupils. But Wonwoo saw what no one else did - the faint tinge of red in his eyes, a sign that he’d gone hungry for too long, the needle-like barb under his tongue that had known the taste of blood too many times. All signs of the monster that layed within. 

The efforts of concealing his true nature had finally caught up to him - the mask that he’d put on, feigning interest in human art, science, and culture finally slipping from his face. Simply put, Wonwoo was tired - restless from years of fighting the hunger, pretending that he cared for this life he’d crafted for himself. In reality, it was all a farce. Wonwoo had given up human blood long ago, but feasting on animals wasn’t enough to quell the burning inside him. 

In the end, he craved. Wonwoo was a thief, because he craved the one thing that was a lifesource for humans - their anima, their joie de vivre. He craved it because he didn’t have one of his own, nothing that drove him, that fueled him to keep going. Humans felt things - they felt happiness, sadness, anger and love. Emotions were so intertwined into the mesh of their lives that they craved any experiences that would give them more - from weddings and parties for families and friends, to random hook-ups, to even the thrill of dangerous situations. 

He’d read the essays his students had written - some of them talking about how humanity loved the society they’d crafted so much, that science was constantly coming up with new ways to prolong life, to keep on living. And yet, it didn’t move him. Wonwoo was tired of living just to live. Which is why he’d chosen to die.

a/n pt. 2: if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! I work a pretty busy job, so I'm not sure when the anticipated release date, will be, but I'm going to try to work on this as much as I can. As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Hold On You 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, bullying, depression, controlling and abusive behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to look on the bright side of life but a man comes along to blot out the sun.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: Thank you all for feeding into this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s a nice day to get out. One of the last sunny days of autumn. You can smell the soil and leaves and hear the call of pumpkin spice. Maybe on your way back. 

You can’t spend another day inside. Not after the week you’ve had. Besides, once the winter hits, you’ll have more than enough reason not to go past your front door. You’re going to make the most of your day off. More so, you’re going to keep your mind busy so it doesn’t fall back into the pit. 

It feels good to move around. Between hunching at your cubicle desk and squinting over your dining room table, that crick in your neck needs to be ironed out. You have to remind yourself to stand up straight as the muscles tug between your shoulder blades. 

You stop and turn to face the record shop. As you do, you’re nearly bowled over by another pedestrian. You hadn’t realised they were so close behind you. You back up and apologise but the man doesn’t even look at you as he veers toward the front door. The bell jingle as he enters with a huff, the back of his dark jacket a vague splotch in your vision. 

Oop. You’re in the way. Again. You do your best not to do that. You never want to stir the waters or be a bump in the road but somehow you always find a way to do that. No good comes from wallowing in it. As stressful as it can be to brave the public and its unpredictability, a smile keeps you from falling apart. 

You approach the shop and swing open the door. Oof, it’s much heavier than that man made it look. You greet the associate behind the counter with a beaming morning and ‘hello?’ He asks how you are and you give the easy answer; ‘good, how are you?’ He responds with the same empty courtesy. 

You look around the covers and the little signs that delineate every genre. Before you can get into all that, you need the most important piece of all. A record player. For as long as you’ve been waiting to set foot in the shop, you’ve been saving up for the player. 

You near the table stacked with varying shades of suitcase players. You read up on each brand and style. It will be best to tuck away when you’re not using it. Your small apartment is already too cluttered. 

You pick a lilac player with little white roses stamped over the cover. It’s on sale. A sign above proclaims that you can get twenty percent off three or more records when you by a player. Well, how about that? It isn’t all doom and gloom. 

You hug the player under your arm and near the shelves mounted to the walls. You peruse the titles intently. Something new? Something you know? You definitely don’t want to get just one genre.  

As you sidle along, the corner of the box knocks against something. You look back and another ‘sorry’ bubbles from your lips. It’s that man again. He’s browsing the end cap behind you and growls at your apology. You stare at him for a moment, he seems at home in a place like this. 

“Um, excuse me, sir,” you say, “do you have any recommendations?” 

He grumbles and puts the album back in its slot. He looks over his shoulder with detest curled into his lip. The stone chiseled into his jaw makes you gulp. 

“What?” He scowls. 

“Sorry, I didn’t... I was only... curious. Have a good day, sir.” 

“Good? What’s good about it?” He hisses. You wince and move to the next section. Not far enough as he sighs, “you know, you wouldn’t like my taste anyway. Stick to your girly pop.” 

You resist a frown. You’re not going to let someone like that bring you down. You can tell that he looks for the worst in everything and everyone. You wouldn’t judge someone by their appearance but his demeanour says as much as his words. You won’t add to his cynicism but bothering him further. 

You pick out an Etta James album that you recognise. Your grandmother had the same one. You think your mother snatched it up after she passed. You didn’t get much from the inheritance. As it is, you’d rather have your grandma back. Someone to talk to. 

You move on to the rock section. There’s hair metal and classic rock and grunge and all sorts. You’re not unfamiliar with the genre but you don’t want to be too obvious.  

A scuff startles you and you glance over at the man in the dark jacket. He seems familiar. His short brown hair, his stubbly jaw, and his intensity trigger something in your head. You definitely don’t know him. Everyone you know is too busy for you. 

“Probably don’t even know how to use the damn thing,” he snips under his breath as he gets closer. 

You realise he’s talking about you. It’s no good arguing. You’ve met his kind before. Back when your friends had the time of day for you, you met that type at their parties. You avoided them. 

You leave the aisle. You don’t want to be in his way, though it seems no matter what you do, you are. You find yourself exactly where he predicted. Well, who cares? It’s all a matter of brain chemistry, right? You don’t get to choose what you like, you just like it. It makes your brain happy and heaven knows you need more of that. 

You pick out another favourite then head over to new release. You’ve never heard Sabrina Carpenter. You’ll give it a try. 

You approach the counter and as you do, another sigh storms through the shop. The man’s behind you. Oh no, had you cut him off? 

“You want to go ahead of me?” You ask as you keep your haul in your arms. 

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, a single record in his hand; The Boswell Sisters. You’ve never heard of them but it really doesn’t look like heavy metal. You turn back to the cashier and smile, “hello, um, this is it.” 

You put your things up as the man returns your smile. He asks if you want a bag and you say, ‘yes, please’. Things might not be perfect but it doesn’t mean you can’t try to make them better. And if a smile and manners can brighten someone else’s day, that alone makes yours a little sunnier. 

🪢

The box for the player has a little plastic handle. You’re happy for that as it makes your journey to cafe a little easier. You stand in line with your paper bag and bulky box and move along until it’s your turn. You order the pumpkin spice but think better of double up with the pumpkin cream muffin; you instead opt for the apple cinnamon with the chunks you can see through the top. 

Patiently, you stand by the wall until your order comes up. You crinkle around the other customers and claim it, balancing it all delicately toward an empty table. You tuck the box underneath and lean the bag against it. 

You tear apart the muffin, dividing the bottom from the top. You peel back the liner and eat the former first, pinching morsels between your fingers. You don’t know why you do it that way, you just always have.  

You taste the pumpkin spice. It’s good. Not too spicy at all. It tastes like real pumpkin. Considering the place is local, it might very well be. You pop the lid off to reveal the mostly melted cream and have another sip. 

You wipe the dairy mustache from your upper lip with a napkin and your eyes flick up to meet another pair. Not far from you, that man stands with his hands in his pockets. He’s waiting by the order window for his own delight. Well, that’s great. Maybe it will cheer him up. 

He glowers until you look through the window. Or not. The baristas call out a black coffee as you chew on the brim of the paper cup. You stare out into New York traffic and feel yourself getting smaller. It’s easy to feel lost in the city. 

As you watch through the window, a dark figure passes before it. You lift your gaze and again find yourself at the mercy of that man’s grim snarl. You quickly turn back to your latte. He must’ve had that black coffee. He might do with a bit of sugar. 

You try not to think about it. You don’t know him. You don’t know his problems. Just like anyone else. People don’t know that you feel heavy when you wake up or that you spend your hours keeping your hands busy so you don’t have to think. They only know the woman with the smile and the chipper voice and just as swiftly forget about her. 

You pick away at the muffin, savouring in each bite. You’re thankful for that. For that moment. You have coffee and a nice dessert and you got your record player. It's best not to think about all the existential stuff you can’t change. It will come back later when you’re alone. It can wait until then. 

🪢

Your walk home sees the sun hiding behind the clouds. The downpour begins a block away from your building and soaks you through. You keep your head down against the sheets of rain and hurry up the walk as the front door comes in sight. 

The elevator is out of order. Again. You climb the stairs in your squeaky soles and finally reach your apartment. You push inside and kick off your sodden shoes and peel away your jacket. The turtleneck beneath is just as drenched. 

You don’t strip down right away. You’re more concerned with your prizes. The records are fine, the covers just a bit damp, and the player doesn’t seem to have taken too much water. You leave it all on the counter and go to change into your favourite fuzzy pajamas. 

You come back out to the front room and stop to admire the slake of rain pelleting against the large windows. It might be dreary but it’s beautiful in its own way. You let the tempo lull you as you unpack the player and set it up on the book shelf.  

You slide the Etta James record from its sleeve and lay it on the player, moving the needle into place. You let it play as you back up, the boisterous tones of the legend melding perfectly with the raindrops. You smile; not the put-upon smile you wear for strangers but a smile of nostalgia and calm. You miss your grandma terribly but the music doesn’t make you sad. 

You go to the table, still messy from last night’s work. It never is clear. You always have scraps and bits littered over it, your sewing machine a permanent fixture on the worn wood. You sit and pick up the felt clump and go back to needling it to a discernible shape. 

Your brows nearly meet in the middle for your focus and it isn’t until the record begins to skip that you sit up. That damn kink is back. Your own fault. Can’t be mad at anyone but yourself. 

You flip the record and let it play out. When it’s over, you shut off the player. You eat the leftovers you’ve been parsing out for the week and settle in for your favourite romcom. It’s cheesy and a little lame but you only have to keep yourself happy. Or try to. 

You leave your plate on the coffee table and hunker down to finish the movie. You’re tired when it’s over but know you won’t sleep. So you go back to the table and work as the rain slows to a lazy rhythm. Your eyelids droop, your shoulders too, but you persist. 

The windows grow dark and there is only the distant shine of streetlights and few windows in the neighbouring buildings. You stare out at the blurring haze and it fades to a deep grey. You wake leaning back in the chair, your head hanging off your neck. You groan as you sit up and curse your carelessness. 

It won’t make work any less intolerable. You check the time ticking away on the clock that came with the apartment. You can get another hour or two. You get up and trod off to bed, not bothering to shut off the lights. You don’t sleep well in the pitch black. 

You fall into bed and just as quickly find yourself unbearable awake. All those little doubts and fears rise up to the surface and have you drowning just below. This is why you end up sleeping upright or folded over. Trying never works for you. Not at anything. 

[yuuainnie]

Self aware AU the story after 3 years parting

...

There was unexpected event that stopped the so called Self aware viruses in your phone to interact with you for 3 years.

For some unfortunate turn of events. You accidentally drop your phones while mountain climbing ( you were force by your parent to visit some family that live near the mountains) one drop to a water and it gets wash off to the fast raging water and the other smash the screen into the rock and it turn black, dead.

Name:..... My mom going to kill me for being this stupid.

You don't actually take the account that you have self aware viruses of characters of a certain game in your phone as the outcome of that moment of stupidity.

At most case you thought your mentally ill and probably made those self aware character when you should have hang out friends in your mind, gaslighting yourself to believe those event in the previous chapters are just "being too imaginative" of a friendless person.

.

.

.

You were yelled at and told that you won't get a new phone to play your games you wanted because the phone your given have a system that's below the recommended update to even download the Twisted wonderland.

And your already gotten sick of the fandom and drift to elsewhere. So the thought of those time, fade to the back of your mind as time passes by.

.

.

.

It took you 3 years to go back to the fandom again. Because you saw some TikTok that you thought was really funny and it was that time you manage to buy a phone to be able to play the game again.

Name: I felt that I have a fever dream, I forget what it was... Ah. It's probably a fanfic I obsess too much.

You laugh to yourself as the memory of you experiencing Self aware characters flash in your mind as the game is being downloaded in your phone while your playing in digital tablet, creating a 3D model of Ortho Fairy gala gear.

While your focusing, you don't notice the moment you log in to your account with barely looking in your screen. The screen turn black and the logo of Shroud family organization appear. But your too focus on the art piece your doing to notice it

If only you look at it, you saw the background of the menu shown the Room of Shroud in a mess than its usually is, and idia hugging his knees while rocking back and forth on his computer chair, mumbling something with eyes that seems to have not sleep even a wink. If looking closely you can notice how he seems to be crying with those dread tears in his eyes.

The screen distorted when idia Holden orbs went to look at you, and his eyes widen and the scene disappear and change back to the normal game menu. As if the sight of him being in a downcast and depress wasn't shown. But then again you seems too focus on your work on your tablet to see what's up.

Idia: welcome back cheater.

You heard the sound of welcome of the character you last put in your account that welcome you back. You turn to look at the screen when you read the words of idia.

Name: where the word cheater come from? As if we're in a relationship to be called cheater.

You mumble to yourself poking Idia, forgetting the important matter: self aware.

Name: did the game update that it's now an Otome and dating sim?

You poke his sides and really want to smack your hand away when he felt your poking his side.

Idia: eekk .. stop poking my side! HELP! SOS!!

Name, laughing: ahahah. Your so silly. Wonder what's up with your new voiceline right now.

Idia:... Oh seven don't tell me your brain reformat and forgot about everything?

And here I am, going to tell you off being one of those Liars and ungrateful weebs that can't care more about how lucky they are to experience Self aware life with their favorite fictional characters.

Name: .....

You pause starting at idia as you process what he just said. He seems to be nagging you about something. It took you a while to finally process what he said.

Name: ah. It wasn't mental illness.

Idia: if it was did you went to therapy to not playing a single game in your accounts? That's the most nerve ricking thing a game would do.

Name, thinking about what he said seems expensive, therapy: no, my phone get drop to the river, get wash fast by river water before I can get it. I heard people died cause of the current in that river. Then the extra phone get Koed by the rock cause my hand get slippery for eating something oily.

Idia:... You are not a Libra type of person are you?

Name: who knows :)

While your enjoying the talk with idia the screen on your tablet glitch out for a moment and the 3D model that your almost down but uncolored , blink without you moving it. Then then it slowly gain texture and color render as it explore the new 4 walls that's surrounded him.

Ortho shroud have hacked your work drawing tablet and upgraded to a 3D model and looking at you as he open screen system that let him access your files on the tablet and saw you have new email that he and his brother did not know.

Taking note to it as his brother distracted you but taking note about your words as you explain what happened to you to lost contact with them for the last 3 years.

It seems that that player doesn't deliberately abandoned my brother and me. It's a good thing to know that before the time limit that he left in a count down in his head after seeing his brother ending in a terrible state because his only friend outside Ortho have disappear without a word.'

( You don't really proceed to the story and stuck at Chapter 1 cause you only do events when your playing before )

In a world where only him and his brother is even self conscious about them being in a game made others seems lifeless when the game isn't playing.

The world is in a frozen state if the player stopped playing and for them it's prison without escape.

Ortho: Hi Name~ how are you?

He finally break into a smile, hiding the fact he was glaring at you earlier. And you look at your drawing tablet and saw Ortho Fairy gala model have been completely render to perfection.

Name: oh ma' gott. Is this the cheat code of self aware characters!? AIYO YOUR MAKING MY WORK SO EASY!!

Seeing the model in a perfect state without doing the damn render makes you happy to notice the darkness In those two eyes that seems to grown from the past three years of partings.

[sinister-sincerely]

hi sin... :3c ... >:3c

we care youuuuuuu 💜💜💜

much sillies!! & much lovely art!! from @midnight-mourning @luckyyyduckyyy @soupdweller @wyervan & i, for you!!! 🫵

we hope that you are doing well! and that you are taking care, giving yourself grace through the highs & lows alike. it's not always easy, but you're not alone. hopefully this gets a laugh for ya to enjoy 💜

& in the future, if you'd like to draw together, or simply chill ambiently... the offer is always open!

... In full disclosure this took me a wretched amount of time to pull myself together to actually respond to.

(Its a long one, just a heads up. I do think its worth it though)

To say I was floored~ moved~ touched~ The words pale in comparison.

I believe the saying that a measure of someone being a good person is how they treat those that can do nothing for them.

And here I am, a stranger, being shown a kindness that I am not so sure I deserve but am grateful nonetheless.

To think that anyone, let alone all of you, amazing writers, artists, … people I respect and admire thought of me for even a moment to do something like this.

Depression- it holds me back a lot of the time.

It convinces me, like I am sure it does MANY of those readin' this, that your absence in this community, in this world, would not be felt.

There is a reason that I am a part of this community.

Its because it has a way of pulling together some of the most wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure of getting to know.

Now. I wanna return some of that kindness and talk specifically about the ones that pulled together to do this for me. (And also a few that are never far from my mind too)

@divinit3a

You are one of the only people I know that can just be there and your presence felt. Charismatic in the most brilliant way, I love the way your personality shines through everything you interact with (whether that be your writing or something as simple as a Tumblr post)

There is a reason that when you entered the community that people were drawn to you. You have an ability that is both captivating as it is striking in how powerful that magnetism is.

I am so grateful I get to know you, and I am so excited to see what else you create whether that be in this community or elsewhere.

I will always be a supporter, a fan, and most importantly a friend.

Read their stuff!

@midnight-mourning

Sometimes I get caught up in the fact I actually get to speak with the person who has wrote one of my favorite works on AO3.

I first stumbled upon your fic the day it was published and immediately fell in love with the snarky depiction of Sun (and the beautiful mysterious Moon) that you created in a world that has so much more left to be uncovered.

You manage to balance your life along side updating which in of itself seems like such a superpower that I envy to the core.

You also floored me with the kindness you've shown through out us chatting back and forth. Sometimes I feel just in awe that I can say we know eachother…

@luckyyyduckyyy

Talk about someone I've been actively following for awhile- Lucky, your ANE fanfic was one of the very first I read when stumbling upon the DCA community! It inspired me to take a chance at writing myself and posting it for the first time.

If I hadn't come across you- well, I wouldn't be here now… How do you even begin to pay that back?

I have no idea how I can thank you enough for doing that for me, let alone thank you for doing the above for me…

Its my hope that I get to continue to be friends with you, learn more from you and maybe one day manage to give back a fraction of what you've given me…

@soupdweller

AHH! Hi! So- I have no words but thank you.

I've admired your art for a very VERY long time and its such a cool, (and a bit) intimidating (but in a good way) gesture to have this coming from you too.

Your rendering is beautiful.

The way you laid out the DCA's internals still give me steampunk vibes in the BEST way with the colour palette~ I can gush forever but I also wanna seem cool and somewhat mysterious in that 'kinda quiet way'…

… I'll cut that out for now ^^

on a serious note, thank you, you don't know me very well but you still did this and what I mentioned before about the measure of being a good person- that describes you.

@wyervan

… Would it be weird for me to say that anytime I think of the DCA as humans I can't for the life of me not picture the AU forms that you created that has single handedly metamorphosized into a community Slasher Y/N multiverse?

That is an amazing talent, I am just in awe at what you've managed to not only do, but also how you've brought so many people together!

I have so much to say, and yet I don't wanna put my foot in my mouth by actually following through with the amount of admiration I wanna express.

Thank you for taking part in this for me, we don't really know each-other much just yet but I hope that changes. You seem like such an amazing person, I'd love to gossip about skinny, scrawny, somewhat unhinged guys with you sometime.

-

I have a few people I wanna shout out too

@amarynthian-chronicles:

Thank you for always supporting me, even when I don't think I deserve it. You've been an amazing person to me, and I hope I get more opportunities to return the favor

@gniteruirui

Gosh. You've been such a beautiful person to get to know this past year or so. Your artwork gives me life, and seeing your name pop up in all the ways it does makes me smile.

@lets-zofifi-stuff

I hope you continue to have more good days vs bad- I hope the sun shines on you and you always find random luck whenever its needed.

You were one of the first people I made friends with here on Tumblr… I may have also looked back and saw that you even made a post about me when I left Tumblr the first time.

@bubbiethesaur

I don't have enough words to express how much I adore you for just being you. Thank you, I hope I can be a friend that deserves you.

I just wanted to tag you- You are so talented, wonderful, and kind.

Something about you just makes me smile whenever I see your username come up. I've always wanted to get closer to you, friendship wise, but I also get scared because you're so cool.

I've been working on it.

Just know that our conversations in Qwille's discord have always been some of my favorite moments in this community.

@maldefekt

Thank you for reaching out to me- even that most recent time when you saved me from something I know would have haunted me forever!

I am looking forward to getting to know you more

[bambi-kinos]

Dakota Days Review

I got an ask requesting I post the Dakota Days review. The rest of the ask will be mega long so I don't want to just add on the review to the end and make it an even bigger read. So I'm posting this as its own free-floating thing.

So my deal is that in 2023 and 2024 I had enough time on my hands that I read a shitton of Beatle books (including most of the books in my big recommendation post, which I am still thinking about updating so keep in mind it hasn't achieved its final form.) I regularly talk these over with a friend and this review is mostly what I told her when she asked if she should read it or not. Either this will sell you on the book or it will not lol. I did some light editing for readability but otherwise it is mostly intact from the original post date February 13, 2023....good God, 2 fucking years ago!

Okay so Dakota Days. It's an account of John Green, also known as Charlie Swan who was a tarot reader that was close to the Lennons following John's return from his Lost Weekend.

Charlie states from the start that he is only trying to impart a snapshot of what it was like to live with John and Yoko during this time. He straight up admits that he has edited out certain parts of it to respect their privacy (and to cover his own ass as he did his fair share of scamming Yoko during this period.) He also straight up admits that he smushed together many years, events, and conversations in the book. He explains this very sensibly: while he claims a prodigious memory (which will prove not to be the case) he also says that he just spent too many years in John and Yoko's employment to recount all of them without boring the reader.

This is a very effective tactic. Charlie is deliberately telling us something that he is doing (editing the accounts of what happened) because it will make us trust him more. Being honest about misdoings you've done or will do tends to get people to like you more. This is what con artists do when they are trying to get people to fall for their schemes: they will tell you what they are doing and then they will do it. It is effective because it works. Charlie tells us that he is either misremembering or covering his own ass and because he does this we like him, which primes us to accept everything he says.

Charlie gets called up by Yoko only a few hours after John drags home. She renames him Charlie Swan because she knows John will be jealous of him having the same name. Charlie goes along with it because he knows Yoko is an easy mark; he claims in the text that he found John at Disney World of all places and that this is how Yoko ended the long weekend. Considering this is not how it happened we can guess that what Charlie actually did was pull the wool over Yoko's eyes and then claim credit for it. Again, a very effective tactic.

What happens next is really interesting: John feigns being poisoned. He's told Yoko that May poisoned him in his tea. Charlie reads the cards and they tell him "no way was John poisoned" and John leverages this to get Yoko out of the room. John picks Charlie's brain about the occult for a while and then lets him go home after a few hours.

Won't recount everything that happens next but I will say this: Dakota Days is the second half of the story about John's Dakota years and it compliments Fred's book perfectly. Fred depicted a manic John and a cold, distant Yoko. Charlie depicts a depressive John and an anxious Yoko in desperate need of hand holding at every single stage in her life. The amount of time and money that John and Yoko spend on con artists like Charlie as well as their other astrologers, mystics, and Korean herb healers is astounding. They were completely and utterly paralyzed with terror if they had to make decisions on their own. Indecisive, fretful, worried, anxious, Yoko straight up has a panic attack at one point because Charlie orders her to make a decision on her own and she almost dissolves into tears because she can't do it.

The funny part is I find none of these depictions at odd with one another. Yoko's imperious mask always hid the frightened baby underneath and John's aggressive ego always hid the broken hearted lover who wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Yoko didn't give Fred an "in" because he was a servant but she feared and respected Charlie so she could afford to be a broken little girl in front of him. John respected Charlie as a magician and hung on his every word. He didn't see a point in pretending to be something he wasn't like he did with Fred.

Charlie's big thing in the book is that he depicts himself as Spitting Straight Facts at John and Yoko. He condenses these into different conversations. For example, at one point Yoko takes John to Japan for a few months because she wants to convince him to live there full time. All of their clothes are packed according to what Charlie's tarot cards tell them are lucky to take. Yoko asks him to cast spells to keep John in a good mood. They plan out their journey to follow certain directions based on Japanese numerology that calculates the luck of cardinal directions. (Charlie cheerfully admits that this is outside of his education so he can't give an opinion on it. This is part of his set up, he doesn't have a problem admitting his weaknesses which makes him come off as more honest than he really is.)

It all goes wrong within two weeks: John hates Japan. Absolutely hates it. He hates having to entertain Yoko's family. He hates the hotels they are in. Yoko calls Charlie on the verge of tears and tells him that John is humiliating her in front of her family -- apparently Yoko's mother and sister called Yoko out on her bullshit and they accused her of accomplishing nothing with her art. (Holy shit, based?!) Yoko is desperate for John's wealth and status to impress her mother and tells Charlie, "I know what they say about me, they say that all I did was marry John and spend his money!" Which is of course absolutely true.

Yoko is desperate to win her mother's favor because she wants Sean to get a sizable piece of the inheritance but she was so disgusted with Yoko that she wouldn't even acknowledge Sean. (Brutal.) Yoko takes this personally because her sister Setsuko married a Westerner, a diplomat, and Yoko dissolves into hysterics over the phone demanding that Charlie tarot read for new, luckier clothes and have them air mailed to them. As far as I know, Charlie did it because it was an order and Yoko was paying his bills.

It gets worse though because John starts shuffling around like a zombie, moaning, whacking his head against the walls, etc. He tells Charlie that he's pretending to be dead. (I actually think I know what John was doing -- he probably absorbed some of Japan's pop culture about ghosts and he started imitating it.) This freaks out Yoko's family and her mother asked what the hell she was doing bringing this fucked up white guy to Japan. Charlie depicts himself as being the only person John can vent to which is something that I actually believe even though it probably didn't go down in precisely this way.

When Yoko tells John that they're going home soon, John perks up. He starts wooing Yoko's mother and makes nice with her. The funny part is that after all that, John actually succeeded in making Yoko's mother like him! Of course Yoko calls Charlie, again almost in tears, and tells him "John is doing it all wrong, he's being friendly with her, he's not holding her at a distance, he's buying her things and taking her out to fancy eateries!" Yoko is depicted as flat out hysterical in this conversation, enraged and upset that John charmed his way into her mother's good graces instead of making her submit by being ice cold and imperious (aka acting like Mimi) which dissolves her into anguish. And then, at the end of it all, Charlie says that Yoko is being ridiculous and it's a good thing that John is finally getting along with her mother. (Hittin' hard with that street wisdom!) Yoko is very bitter in response. After that chapter I thought, "man Charlie is putting up with a lot huh."

The entire book goes this way. It depicts a John that will make grand gestures towards Yoko (he has Charlie perform a "druidic" marriage ceremony to reaffirm his marriage to Yoko and Charlie has a GREAT time making shit up and forcing John to gather all this bullshit stuff that has nothing to do with Celtic traditions, Charlie's account is so so gleeful about making John dance like a monkey) but actively loathes her the rest of the time. Charlie outright states that their relationship is unhappy.

For example, when Sean was born, John was crazy with worry and made up the Dakota to be more comfortable for Yoko and the baby. But when Yoko finally came home she immediately handed Sean to the nanny (which John HATED, he tried to make her pick Sean back up because he was so upset) and went to her room after a huge fight with John. John then sat down with Charlie and bitterly vented about the fact that he knew Yoko didn't appreciate him and that he was furious that she smoked through her pregnancy and that she wasn't interested in Sean. He accuses her of making Sean sick which is probably true considering Yoko was probably on heroin through out the pregnancy! John is actually kind of stunning here because he is utterly pissed off at Yoko for putting Sean's health at risk and then snubbing John when she finally gets home. His breakdown when Yoko comes home is incredible. They have a baby that she hyped up to Charlie as a Messiah and then she didn't want him. And it still didn't make her love John. The despair in his words.

A lot of the conversations that Charlie depicts follows this pattern. At one point John gets so angry about Yoko's coldness that he picks a fight with her, gets in her face, and just starts screaming at her. She runs out of the room crying because she's frightened of him and then calls Charlie to do a tarot card reading on why John was so mad at her. Charlie speculates it's because she doesn't communicate well with John and he was trying to shake something loose. She goes on a long rant about why this can't possibly be the case because she's only doing what's best for him so please Charlie read the cards…. of course when Charlie spoke to John, John replied that he was angry that Yoko speaks Japanese because he doesn't understand what she's saying to the servants and he thinks that they're talking about him. He's paranoid and angry that she's doing something that he can't get involved with. So he started screaming at her and throwing cigarette packets at her.

At times like this, when Yoko and John are fighting, Charlie takes on an interesting role. He will tell them hard truths about their relationship that they don't like. When Yoko whines that John is being too independent in 1979, Charlie tells her that this is a good thing and that she should be happy that John doesn't need to be managed. He also tells her that she and John will be happier if they are independent of each other. This bounces off Yoko completely and she whines (Yoko is VERY childish in this book) that this isn't possible or safe because John is too stupid (!!) and naive (!!) to make decisions on his own.

Charlie very deliberately depicts himself almost as a marriage counselor to them. You can see his prodigious perfect memory fails him at these junctures because when he relays conversations, John and Yoko don't sound like themselves most of the time. But the funny part is, I totally believe it. I actually do think that Charlie Swan had moments where he gave his unvarnished opinion about JohnandYoko to John and Yoko. He could do this safely for a few reasons:

1) He knew they considered him superior to them. He successfully dug a foothold in their minds and had them both totally convinced that he was legit. They couldn't throw him out because he was their closest tarot reader and it looks like he also had a legitimate head for business because he was able to give them some good financial advice. All of this meant that they were in awe of him and neither of them wanted to go against what he said. They were completely at his mercy. In a way I think it's lucky that Charlie wasn't more malicious because he could have manipulated John and Yoko into doing some depraved shit if he felt like it. They both worshipped him completely. Independent sources verified that John called Charlie "the Oracle" and it wasn't all a jest.

2) Conmen are incredibly good at reading people. They see our weaknesses and they understand them. He had John and Yoko sized up the moment he met them. He realized John and Yoko were both inherently childish, very credulous, willing to believe anything, and that they would only take the easy way out. They wanted self improvement to come only at the cost of their check books. They loved spending money (I think they both had shopping addictions -- I know because I have a shopping addiction) and they didn't want to be disciplined in the slightest. In fact Charlie depicts several moments where outside parties force John and Yoko to be disciplined and they both react like children being forced to sit in the time out chair.

3) John and Yoko, being very petulant, lazy, and weak at this stage of their lives, were totally impervious to criticism. John at least admitted that he knew Charlie was right about certain things but Yoko always had excuses for why she couldn't give John a longer leash/respect him as her life partner, be nice to her mother (Charlie at one point straight up asks why she's being such a bitch to her mother and Yoko is full of pathetic excuses), spend time with her baby, etc. (She couldn't buy farmland on her own because she didn't know how to ascertain if any of the property was good, so she had Charlie do readings so she didn't have to take responsibility for it.) John and Yoko did not want to shoulder any kind of responsibility for anything at all. They are both depicted as sleepwalking through life, becoming outraged when anything temporarily waylaid them.

You could give them as many hard truths as you wanted and it would never take because they will never ever accept it or act on it or own their mistakes. John and Yoko are often at odds in the book, screaming and arguing with each other, John fucking things up on purpose for Yoko's family, but when it comes to Growing The Hell Up, they were a united couple saying "no the hell we will not!"

This is reading between the lines now but I think Charlie is straight up laughing at them at some points and he's letting us in on the joke. He knows that so long as they remain petulant and undisciplined, he will always have a job. So he can tell them honestly to their faces that they are bad parents, that they are a terrible couple, that John is a sullen asshole and Yoko is a whiny bitch, and they will never ever fire him. They will argue with him but Yoko will have him back in her bedroom in 15 minutes to get him to read tarot cards for her again.

A few things I found interesting:

Sean is not portrayed at all in the book. John once describes Sean as overly quiet and meek especially around John and John says it's because he knows Sean is frightened of him. Interesting that this is at odds with Fred's portrayal of Sean. However I actually feel a little soft towards Charlie Swan on this because I think he did it to protect Sean, the way he said he would protect the Lennons' privacy at the beginning of the book. I legit think he was shielding Sean because Sean under 18 when Charlie published this. I think he didn't want Sean to have to wrestle with being depicted in a memoir at that age. The Dakota situation is so fucked up that I legit believe that this expert scam artist might have been in the only moral person on John and Yoko's payroll. I say this because Charlie is absolutely fearless towards John and Yoko in this book so he clearly didn't give a shit about being sued for libel. So IMO he did it to protect Sean because Sean was only a child.

John goes in a 15 month depression in 1978 because Sean once asked him (after seeing one of their poor cats fall out of a window) what happened to the cat that died. John tells him that the cat went to the Land of the Dead because it fell, explaining that nothing can survive a fall out of a window that high. Sean apparently thought about it and said "then Daddy, why haven't you walked out the window?" Jesus Christ.

Charlie scolds John for being a shitty parent and tells him that Sean is just a kid and that he doesn't understand what he's saying. He's just repeating things that he's heard around the house, and if you read between the lines you can feel Charlie judging John and Yoko because Charlie understands that this exposure to the occult is fucking Sean up. John becomes very surly and asks him "how the hell do you know" to which Charlie replies "I studied art therapy and child psychology in college for my teaching degree." (Independent verification has proven that this is true!) John sinks even deeper into a funk that yet another person is proving to be more knowledgeable about John's children than John himself, and rolls over in bed, beginning a 15 month period where he won't see anyone. He just lays there watching tv with the sound off.

Yoko is constantly on edge. She's obsessed with what people think of her. Charlie describes 1979/80 as being very trying because Yoko constantly repeating the same questions for Charlie to read for, trying to divine what stories journalists will write about her next.

John is similarly obsessed with having a positive PR image. He's deeply upset that no one liked his Rock n Roll or Shaved Fish albums (because they don't have new material.) John spends an entire chapter moaning that he hates his audience because they don't love him enough. Then he admits that he thinks he owes them new material but that he won't commit to anything without having a decent stock of songs to burn through. Then he swivels back to piling more blame onto his audience and continues bitching that they don't love him enough to make up for the anguish that he feels all the time. He piled a lot of blame and resentment onto The Public for not being able to "fix" his sadness.

At one point Yoko wants to buy blessings/curses from an actual witch so they go to Brazil. They find a bruja and Charlie intimates to the audience that brujas are expert con artists in a class of their own. He relates that a bruja once sabotaged a building project at which time the builders invited her onto the property to do an """exorcism""" from which she made a tidy profit and they were able to resume building. (Charlie does not depict it in precisely this way but he relates the story in such broad ""magical"" terms that you can see him grinning, pointing, winking, and nodding at you from across the room. Charlie made it as obvious as he possibly could that he was totally fucking with these people and that he knew when other magicians were fucking with people as well.)

Yoko has to sit through a week of a Brazilian woman putting her through fake and expensive rituals, all while putting on a fake Jamaican accent??? Yoko is so dumb and desperate that she doesn't see through it. Charlie is incredibly contemptuous through out the section. He does have an interesting "magic" battle with the bruja (here called Nora, her actual name was Lena) where they size each other up and the bruja agrees to take Yoko on as a client. Eventually Yoko gets cold feet and begs Charlie for a way to get her out of the rituals because she's scared that Nora mentioned a "blood sacrifice" and Yoko doesn't want to kill someone.

To which Charlie replies: "Yoko, why don't you just tell Nora how you feel? You're the client, if you don't want to make a blood sacrifice then just ask Nora to do something different. I don't think she's going to kill a person but if you're that worried then you can tell Nora about your concerns and she'll either change it or explain what will happen. You're paying her, remember?"

Yoko dissolves into more hysterics. She's scared the bruja will put a curse on her or Sean or John. She's too anxious to ask for clarification or help. Charlie rolls his eyes through the entire section.

Then the actual ritual happens, Nora kills a dove (poor thing) and then tells Yoko to sign her name to sell her soul to…something? I actually didn't understand what, though Charlie told Yoko "it's impossible for you to sell your soul so just go along with it dumbass."

But Yoko melts down. She can't do it. She begs Charlie to sign on her behalf and it sounds like she was actually crying because she was so scared. Charlie and Nora both sigh but Charlie signs the document and Nora goes "okay, done!"

Yoko then asks Charlie "Hey did you sign Charlie Swan or John Green?" To which Charlie replies, "what makes you think I signed either of those names?" Yoko freaks out and follows him around going "What name did you sign?? Whose soul did you sell??? Charlie?!!!! Charlie!!!!" But he never tells her lmao. He is so fucking contemptuous of her, it's amazing. This sequence is Charlie Swan rubbing his superiority in Yoko's face with utter glee, and he completely gets away with it. She's too scared to argue with him.

Obviously Charlie doesn't talk about everything here. For example, he and Sam Green both pulled a fast one on Yoko by counterfeiting a painting and selling it to her -- her own boyfriend! It was a complete success, she paid them both handsomely for it. He doesn't talk about that here. But it's clear from the outset IMO that he lies his ass off about tarot reading through out the entire book and is able to do as well as he does because he does actually have some good business sense.

I have to be honest: I respect the fuck out of Charlie Swan. This man is a king. He scammed John and Yoko out of millions. He did so well that he could tell them how awful they were to their faces and they had no choice but to swallow it whole. They didn't have the sac to stand up to him. And he was kind enough to write this book and show us how he did it: by taking advantage of their fear, petulance, and refusal to grow up. Dakota Days is an amazing book.

I have decided that the rocknroll industry is one big trailer park and John and Yoko had the biggest trailer. John is straight up wandering around in a robe and curlers reading the astrology and Dear Abby sections of the newspaper, Yoko is knocking back forties wondering when she can upgrade to the younger model. Sean is their poor kid with a learning disorder that is doing the pyromaniac thing. Going to Swiss boarding school (so that Yoko didn't have to be reminded of John) is probably what straightened him out and saved him.

Not trying to diss trailer parks, I met a lot of nice people who lived in them when I worked insurance, so pulling more from sitcom trash here. But John and Yoko fought, a lot, like these types of couples always do (that anecdote of Pete Shotton's second phone call where Yoko is screaming her head off in the background. I live next to a trashy family like this.) Who knows what Sean heard and what he repeated because he was so young.

This is the book that convinced me that John retreated into the Dakota out of shame. He knew that being with Paul was the best thing that ever happened to him, the only good thing, and he fucked it up with drugs and untreated mental illness. Which sadly has to be hung around his own neck. He blew his life up for no reason and he hid because he knew that.

John thought there were only two options: go back to Yoko or eat crow and go back to Paul. He couldn't stand either but at least with Yoko he didn't have to dance for the press. It never occurred to him that he had options and could do anything.

[strangetomato]

Mental Health Update

I thought I would update on my mental health, since I've done so quite a bit here over the years.

As I mentioned before, its been over 5 years since I've been symptomatic. That's huge. I take an arsenal of medication, and I'm going to keep that just the way it is.

I try to keep up with the lifestyle stuff, too. Sleeping (I think it's the #1 mental health thing), exercising, and eating (not the best at this, but trying). I still attend a peer support group almost every week. My best friend does as well. We met there, and we both attend it like its church to us (for me, it feels that way--sidenote: I was raised in a very religious family, and I'm now thoroughly and extremely "non-religious").

Since my wonderful psychiatrist moved away, I have floundered around. I was referred to one who I will describe as simply "vile" and leave it at that. Her takes on adhd and autism were atrocious, and she was both belittling and beligerent. After that, I kept agitating my family doctor for another referral, perhaps in a neighbouring town. Finally, this worked.

This new psychiatrist was okay. He seemed amused that I was there to see him proactively, without any crisis, but I think that speaks to our struggling mental healthcare system. There was a moment where he mansplained (doctorsplained?) mania and hypomania to me, as if I havent been doing this for 25+ years, but I listened politely. I did like his distinction that the only real difference is that with hypomania you can continue to function. Yeah, I've gone on some wild rides (especially in my 20s), but ultimately I have kept it on the rails.

He also said that bipolar depression is somewhat different from unipolar depression. He said it's a lot worse. And the suicidality is a big part of that. And maybe it's in the contrast. There's something so desperately evil about plunging from euphoria to suicidal all in the span of a day or two, sometimes mere hours. And every time you cycle it gets just a little worse.

Fortunately, once you finally bring the wheel to a stop, your brain starts to right itself, too.

This psych also stated that lithium treats suicidal ideation. Since my wonderful former psychiatrist had brought this to my attention, when nobody else ever did, I feel I can trust this guy, too.

If I need him, that is. I'm being proactive. I need to know I have someone competent on the line if/when I need it.

So that's it. I'm doing well. I'm very much "in recovery" because I know that if I stopped my meds, it would knock me over with how fast it would all come rushing back in. But I'm okay with that.

Anyway, hope you are having a good day. I hope you are taking care of yourself, and if you are struggling, keep fighting. There is always hope.

[slayagami]

𐙚 synopsis: after losing consciousness in a villain attack, you wake up 2 and a half years later in the hospital. the time doesn't feel long to you, so adjusting to the new updates takes you by surprise. like your boyfriend of 2 years, izuku midoriya, apologizing that he found love elsewhere, in your best friend ochaco uraraka. you find refuge and comfort in your old friend todoroki, who visited you everyday you were out. does new love blossom or do you fight for midoriya back?

𐙚 pairing: midoriya x afab!reader x todoroki

𐙚 warnings:: mild violence, cursing, cheating?, love triangle-ish, angst to fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, depression, nonchalant reader but over thinker, reader struggles expressing emotions, characters are 22

𐙚 readers quirk: poison arrow. can appear a bow and produce arrows that are ingested with poison that can temporarily paralyze or slow down the movement of who was shot. effects lasts roughly 20 minutes but depending on the victim, possible to move but will be slowed down. quirk allows the reader to have sharp sight, and can see farther and more clearer than most. reader has to train to shoot arrows more accurately. strength of poison depends on readers emotions. hero name: artemis.

𐙚 a/n: slow writer </3 3.9k words & might include typos, i finished this at 4:45 am lolz. link to join tag list is at the bottom! [next]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ love again

you remember sitting in your u.a. classroom in your final year, ochako around your arm while giggles left the slip of her mouth laughing at iida’s antics. his stiff arms flailing around the place as he scolded bakugo yet again, red eyes full of irritation and annoyance.

“something’s about this class will never get old!” you laughed as well, holding onto your bestfriend. she agreed, slowly pulling you to the hallway as the lunch bell rang, waiting outside the door for iida and another.

you remember loving your class. loving your homeroom teacher. loving the lunch meals, loving the thrill of training. but most importantly, you loved the flirtatious glances across the room from bright green eyes, the soft pink hue of his cheeks dusting over his freckles, a nervous smile paired with a wave. you loved eating lunch with him, sitting beside him while your knees touched. you loved visiting his dorm room late at night to play games on his switch. you loved going on dates around the city with your hand holding onto his arm while he guided you through town. you loved graduating with him, jumping into his arms in your cap and down and diploma in hand. you loved the way he asked you to be his girlfriend, bringing a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers and a pretty bracelet to your apartment door. you loved how gentle his hands always caressed your body, mumbles of permission being asked against your lips. you loved waking up in the early mornings with his arm over your torso, half naked while drool seeped its way onto your pillows, green hair tousled and scars on his back prominent. the melodic hum when you scratched his scalp, eyes peeking through long eyelashes up at your sleepy face. you loved working under the same agency as him, being sent on missions together and working hard. you loved having parties in your now shared apartment (after a year of dating) and inviting ochako and iida as well as other old classmates.

it was a comfortable life. so warm and loving. maybe that’s why you had this unfair situation happen to you. perhaps being too happy, too perfect, was a sin. but why? why have you been stuck in a void for so long, unable to move or wake up. faint beeping to your right. why did you deserve to be paralyzed for so long, after having everything you wanted. being where you wanted. you lost sense of time, only knowing the inescapable black hole that you seemingly floated aimlessly in. it was dark and cold. so dark that when you finally opened your eyes, even with the lights turned off the room was still too bright. it took you a while to understand where you were. pupils dilating as they adjusted to the low light. you turned your head to the side, eyeing the heart monitor and wires that connected from the machine to your arm, the soft glow illuminating the bed stand. there was a vase of flowers, still fresh, with a small ribbon that wrote ‘mom & dad’ . there was a red button behind the vase above the desk, ‘push for assistance’ and with a slow and sore arm you reached over. almost immediately loud footsteps and hushed yells came from the hallway, the intense flicker of the lights turning on causing you to wince and close your eyes.

“miss y/n! you’re finally up, how are you feeling?” the head nurse walked over with a clipboard, her blue eyes shining excitedly through her glasses. she wrote down on her clipboard while looking at the monitor, pen scratching filling in the silence. now that you had the chance to talk, your throat felt like sandpaper. dry and stiff, so scratchy it made your eyes water. one of the nurses standing around passed a cup to you, pink bendy straw in all its glory.

“what time is it? how long was i asleep?” a nervous glance between the nurses made you uneasy, fully awake now.

“ahem, its currently 3:44am. you were out for almost two and a half years. do you remember anything before you knocked out?”

a throaty laugh mustered its way up, scoff-like. you thought, unbelievable. it had to be some prank. some pro-hero reality show. you scanned the area, looking for possible hidden cameras. but the room was empty. just your heart monitor, IV bag, flowers. you spoke slowly, unsurely.

“i dont. i feel like i woke up a very long nap but im so stiff..” you fixed yourself to sit upright, your lower back tight. with uncertain eyes the head nurse gave an awkward smile, telling another nurse on stand-by to notify your parents. she spoke with a low tone, as if it would ease into her words.

“you were involved with a villain attack two and a half years ago. you fought very bravely one on one with a man who’s quirk went out of control. from what other pro heroes told us, your body had given out due to extreme exhaustion and overuse of your quirk, but your body automatically moved on its own and still fought. we believe the immense stress your brain and body endured is the reason you fell into a coma for so long.”

after the nurse ran your vitals she excused herself, and you spent the rest of your time wracking your brain to try and remember this so-called fight you were in. but you cant recall anything, and to be honest you don’t remember much of anything from before your coma. just the general facts like where you live, your agency, your friends, your boyfriend. but what you did the week before passing out? nothing. you don’t even remember when you had last went to your agency to work, just the general knowledge that you went. it was a strange feeling. almost out of body, like the person you were was you but also wasn’t.

it was 4:00am when your parents walked in the room, teary eyed and elated. your parents’ hair was longer, complimented with a few more noticeable gray hairs. it tugged at your heart not knowing the amount of stress you put them through, engulfing them in a warm hug. you talked for an hour or two, for any updates you should know and if everything the nurse told you was true. a part of you was hoping this was still a stunt. your parents awkwardly gave each other a look while you drank some water, unsure what to say. their hands found place in each other and intertwined their fingers, a thumb from your father rubbing your mother’s hand. it was quiet and still in your room. the clock on the wall ticking faintly in anticipation. you were now propped against your pillows, big eyes waiting for their words. and, almost comically, a knock on the door broke your attention, all three of you turning in curiosity. plush green of hair paired with the emerald eyes you fell in love with two- no, four? years ago. a smile cracked at your lips, your heart skipping at beat at the change of look your boyfriend held. hair that was shorter than before, styled and cut. a tanner complexion, slightly taller in height with new scars on his arms. he seemed more buff too, white tee hugging onto his biceps.

now, your eyes were always more perceptive than most, mainly because of your quirk. maybe thats why finding these differences were so easy for you to see. maybe thats why you noticed his new scars and shorter hair. maybe thats why your eyes trailed to his wrist, a thin gold chain wrapped around. a different bracelet from what you had given him on your one-year anniversary, to match with the old one he bought you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. your smile faded, intuition kicking in. something didn’t seem right. the glare in his eyes wasn’t as bright as before. weren’t excited. his face showed relief, sure, but also uncertainty. uncomfortableness. guilt. but for what?

you spoke softly, unsure. nonchalant. but your eyes held so many emotions. and midoriya knew that. he knew you’d rather be nonchalant when you’re unsure, even if the thoughts in your head are spiraling. he knew everything about you. which is why it was so much harder to speak. to get the words out. his eyes glanced at the machine next to you, the bpm slowly raising. with awkward, stiff steps he walked towards you, stopping at the your side of the bed. his hand held yours, unfittingly. you took note of the uncomfortable look on your parents face. it only made you worry more.

“it’s nice to see you’re finally awake. are you feeling okay? does anything hurt?”

of course, he still cares for you. you can hear it in his voice the hidden feeling of love and affection,

but why hide that?

like its there but he doesn’t want to show it. you can feel the tension in the room, in your neck as you strain to look at him. you told him you were fine, not knowing how to feel. the conversation lingered, all four of you sitting awkwardly in silence. in the background down the hall, faint flip-flop and footsteps made their way in the direction of your room. little gasps of air, brown hair shoving itself through the doorway.

“y/n oh my goodness! i’m so happy to see you’re finally awake!!” ochako squeezed her way to your side, hugging your body with teary eyes. she seemed like the only normal one, the only one expressing her happiness and relief. it was enough to make you feel better yourself, sighing in ease at her side with a light chuckle.

“of course im awake. that would’ve been a lame way to go out.”

she laughed with you, exchanging jokes and a giggle, yet slowly making her way towards midoriya’s side. then your unease came back. the weird gut feeling, the tug at your emotions and brain. you can see the remorse through the green irises. you can feel the thickness in the room. and as much as you wanted to run away from this feeling, you couldn’t. not physically, not emotionally. what in the world happened when you were out? with a quivering voice, midoriya speaks up softly. cautiously. you can practically see his puppy-dog ears folding downwards against his skull. “things changed between us.” you parents escorted themselves out, saying a faint goodbye. midoriya fiddled with his thumb, teeth nipping at his lower lip. you just say and listened. to his rambling, to the way his voice shook and how the back of his food tapped the floor.

“the doctor’s told us many times you weren’t going to make it. that your body would reject the IV fluids and make you ill, or your heart would stop and they’d struggle to start it again. i spent a year in agony, refusing to eat, refusing to work. i never left your side in the hospital. but it make me sick too. i couldn’t sleep, i-… i felt so hopeless knowing there was a huge chance you’d never wake up.” his lip shook with every word like a leaf to a tree, the smallest crack in his voice breaking his sentences.

“and so ochako took care of me. she let me cry, listened to my nonsense, helped with my sleep and motivated me to go to work again…”

“i guess a part of me accepted you weren’t going to wake up, so i allowed myself to grieve and found new love in ochako. she said she the healthiest way for us us if i agreed to be with her even if there was a small chance you woke up and wanted me still. that if you woke up, i’d still choose her.”

you wanted to laugh. now this really had to be a set up. some sick joke. it was unfair. to wake up, and be told by your nurse you've been out for two and a half years. to not even remember you fighting in the first place. to be stuck in a black hole with faint memories of your past. to see your parents age in the slightest ways 'overnight'. to see your boyfriend change physically. to hear your boyfriend say he's in love with your best friend.

to have your best friend betray you.

frankly, you don't know what hurt more. the fact that your own boyfriend, or now ex-boyfriend, the same man who never let you open a single door, pay for a meal, tie your shoes or take them off, order your yourself, walk alone anywhere without him, the man who talked about marriage and kids with you. to just wake up and hear he couldn't "wait" for you. and that he still can't chose you just from a stupid promise.

or your best friend, the one you've known since you were 5, the girl who sat in the rain with you when your parents forgot to pick you up after school, the girl who's seen you cry so hard you threw up after your first boyfriend in middle school, the girl who always chose you over a boy, over anyone. or used to. ochako knows everything about you. she knows you hate super sweet foods because it makes your stomach hurt. she knows you like your coffee on thee slightly more bitter side. she knows you like the fuzzy socks with animal faces. that you attempted to run from home when you were 11 because your parents grounded you, but got lost at the subway station and cried. and especially knows your love for midoriya. ever since you first started being friends, he was all you talked about. she knows how much you talk about him and how he treats you so well, how excited you were when he first held your hand when he walked you home for the first time, or how you cried when you had an argument that almost ended your relationship, how you had a pregnancy scare and couldn't sleep for days. so why? and ochako looked at you with her huge brown eyes, almost hopeful. you can see it, her asking not for forgiveness, but for you to understand where she's coming from. if you can let it go because nobody knew if you would ever wake up. that she should have the right to date him too. that you were too late.

the tips of your fingers grew cold. your face grew even more pale than before, completely losing whatever life you could express. why must the world be so unfair to you? and why couldn't you express the frustrate you felt, the anger, the pain, the betrayal. you had it verbally sorted out in your head, everything you could possibly say to make you feel better by shitting words out, but the lump in your throat refused any noise to slip by. the room was silent, becoming colder each passing second. it was unsettling. the two just stared at you. green eyes filled with guilt, brown eyes with expectance.

you allowed yourself to slump down the hospital bed, trying to calm your beating hard. though the machine just gave it away, beeping at the same pace as you, only increasing as more time passed, the rise of your chest more visible as you kept battling your thoughts.

"i understand it must be hard for you, for your girlfriend to be unconscious for two and a half years and you finding the comfort in our close friend. and i know as heroes we talked about death, and for us to find happiness if we ever lost one another," you could practically see the growing excitement in ochako's eyes, holding onto every syllable that slipped through. was she even ochako anymore? did she even care that you just gained consciousness not even three hour ago? doesn't she not understand that, to you, yesterday you were 20 and today you wake up 22. you ignored her gaze and look dead straight into midoriya's.

"but i didn't die. and i guess it was wrong of me to assume you'd wait in the first place."

you could tell izuku wanted to say something, and you can see the stupid look in his eyes of wanting to be with you, but would rather be a man of his word to ochako instead of you. and ochako? the excited look in her eyes should be illegal. why is she so happy she gets to be with your man? why does she look like she’s accomplished something? did 20 years of friendship mean nothing to her? before she could slip a word out, your assigned nurse came back in with a stack of papers and medications, asking the visitors to leave so she can properly discharge you. her words found no importance in your mind, completely passing through your head as you replayed what just happened, the anxiety kicking in and making the monitor go off again, dangerously high.

but the nurse calmly removed your vital compressor on your arm as well as your IV drip, refusing to ask questions. she stood outside your door and heard everything. but she really didn’t have to. there’s articles everywhere pertaining to your coma and inside scoop magazine’s of midoriya and uraraka’s dating life. you guys weren’t celebrities or anything, but coming from a school like U.A. that documented your every move puts you in the spotlight. you were considered heroes as soon as you got you license anyways.

midoriya was always at the top of his game, having interview after interview, making his name known whether he meant to or not. he became a popular topic for years, and still continues to rise in popularity. and you got your spotlight after being sent to Kyoto with ochako to handle a gang of villains from the LOV in an abandoned building, managing to save three children who got lost in there while fighting off three villains with close ranged attack-based quirks. your quirk is mainly used for medium to long range combat, but you and ochako interned under gunhead and improved your physical combat which stunned citizens and made you a ‘big deal’. you spent 20 minutes using only combat skills and plain arrows to paralyze them, since they always attacked once you pulled your bow out, never giving you an opportunity. you both took a beating, sure, but you both had unwavering confidence and raw strength, causing you to headline for a couple weeks in Kyoto. ever since then, the media has been keeping tabs on both of you, and your relationship.

so obviously everyone freaked once pictures of him holding ochako’s hand went public, a year after your comatose article went viral. he received a lot of hate, especially from his friends. and it was hard for him to be out in public again without being ridiculed. he eventually stopped his hospital visits, the media speculating it was his new girlfriend’s jealousy of her boyfriend visiting his unconscious lover.

“take this medication when your body feels sore, its just some asprin. your limbs shouldn't feel too stiff, our staff helped stretch your body while you were in your coma. this reduced the shock of trying to use them after they were idle for so long. and these pills are supplements to update your body on the natural nutrients it missed throughout the years! come back in two weeks for an MRI to make sure your body is recovering well,” she handed you two bags of pills, and a change of clothes your parents had left before going to work. you took your leave, a stretch of the body with a silent ‘crack’ of your unused bones. it was roughly 8am now, the sky painted in pink and blue’s as the sun rose, rays of sun covering your body in a light hug. you thanked the nurse,

“oh, and before you go!” she chimed, blue eyes sparkling with interest, “i know its not any of my business, but while you were gone the handsome young man with red and white here visited you quite often, you should thank him.”

todoroki? he was a good friend to you, in fact one of your closest friends you shared with midoriya. you sat next to him your second year at u.a. spending time getting to know him as a person. he was always quiet during class, yet you can see how his eyes shone curiously as he eavesdropped on conversations, acting like he didn't care. or how he would engage in the silly activities your classmates did, like fake a protest when the teacher was biased, or twisting the top off a confetti canon as people walked in during your christmas party. most students always thought he was cold, mean and uninterested. you could tell how that affected him too in the long run, your classmates not conversing with him enough or being too scared too. though as the school year went on, more people realized he just wasn't good at expressing so much. and that he was in fact, just really dense. the only one he was ever mean to was his dad, understandably.

and so you spent class throwing pieces of paper on his desk, written in small characters random questions you had about him. when's your birthday? who's your favorite classmate? favorite subject? what manga do you read? it was simple at first. general question to please the curiosity you both held. until the questions turned into late night invitations hang out in his room, playing on his switch at 2am. he was fun to be around, he became sassy and full of snarky remarks as you grew comfortable with each other. his personality seemed much more brighter to you. and you told him a plethora of things, a bunch of tiny secrets you kept to yourself. throughout each time you saw each other, you grew to understand each other more and more.

“i dont know if i like him or if i just think hes cute..” you hummed, face squished on his silk pillows as you laid on your side. he sat on the floor, back questionably straight as he played on his switch. a piece of cookie stuck out of his mouth, “you and ochaco both like midoriya? isnt that.. against girl code, or whatever you told me?” blue and grey orbs flicker across your face through his bangs, a hidden emotion dwelling in the depths. cookie crumbs lingered on the corners of his lip, moving his attention back to the mini screen in his lap. you laughed naively, hand reaching out to wipe his face.

“oh, she doesnt like him! she said she only sees him as a friend,” the softest shades on pink touched the tips of his cheeks, his face heating up unbeknownst to you. nimble fingers stopped fidgeting at the buttons, peeking once more to look at you, though to his dismay your eyes remained elsewhere, distant. “and you? is it true you have a thing for yaoyaorozu?” your eyebrows wiggled, giggling like a child finding out these simple secrets. everyone in 2-a knew yaoyaorozu had the mushy-gushy for your bi-colored friend, it was a topic always brought up during parties when the two sexes were separated in their respective rooms, desperately seeking gossip. todoroki remained silent for a minute, a soft huff puffing out his chest. “yeah, i like her.” sure, he liked her. she was smart, intuitive, intelligent, diligent, a great leader. anyone would like yaoyaorozu. she came from money yet never expressed that she was better than anyone else, she was generous and humble, kind. everyone liked her. but in todoroki’s eyes, you can see he longed for something else

tag list @c0sm1cstqrsx @aliceblossoms @0b1wan @obeythehuman @whippedbyikemen @faimmm @sagejin @gummy-toes @seobstarr

[vivicas-dollhouse]

General crp headcannons: updated!!

Oh yeah

Genre: headcannons

Characters featured: kate the chaser, ticci toby, masky, hoodie, jeff the killer, eyeless jack, nina the killer, clockwork, ben drowned, sally williams, lulu

Desc: just some general hcs about my favorite murderers

Cw: mild desc of gore, talk of weed and drug abuse

Enjoy!!

Kate

Has a slight russian accent

When not controlled by slenderman, shes quiet and blunt, but can speak. Still doesn't like light but is mainly normal.

She loves to work out because it helps her get things done without much strain

Shes very tired all the time, being feral while under slenders control takes a toll on her

She is very clean, she prides herself in being as normal as possible to counteract her feral instincts.

She misses being normal, but tries not to dwell on it. Theres no going back though, so she just tries to move on

She listens primarily to breakcore, but enjoys some depressing soft music every once in a while.

She likes to draw, and although shes not great at it she enjoys it a lot.

She and brian are fairly close, toby and tim are too loud

She uses noise canceling headphones almost 24/7

She doesn't like being the only girl in the proxy cabin, but she will still kick the boys asses

She doesnt drink or do drugs, she is 22 though so legally she can

She became a proxy at 18

She goes out and does normal citizen stuff for the proxys because shes never been seen out in public because she has her mask. Shes very good at keeping her true identity hidden

Has a scar on her lower lip

She sleeps wherever and whenever she can

She abuses nyquil and often takes sleeping pills so she can sleep peacefully

Toby

has some BAD bipolar, his mood swings so fast that you cant predict his next move

Finds comfort in burning things, he can't quite remember why but he knows it feels like freedom

Keeps himself clean enough, after a mission he hops in the shower immediately but doesn't do a whole body scrub, just the main areas and forgets deodorant way too often

Dating jack

He is mildly allergic to shellfish, but its not like he can actually afford seafood so its not a problem

Masky always gets on his case, and toby hates that. They never get along, usually exploding at each other every week

Doesnt work out, but hes lean and fit regardless

Has an anxiety disorder that makes him have regular panic attacks but he smokes weed to feel better

Likes to hunt, but has no idea how to butcher the things he kills and has no desire to learn. Brian can do it.

Hes a slob, he barely cleans his room and doesn't wash his clothes often

He likes to think hes secretive and mysterious, but he is Definitely Not

Carries a switchblade at all times

He is barely 21, but has been a proxy since he was 16

Sleeps all day and stays up all night

Masky/tim

Has chronic pain that he needs painkillers for, often goes out of his way to kill elderly people so that he can take their pills

He is bitter about being a proxy, he doesn't like it but its a safe roof over his head and thats more than he can get alone

Listens to grunge/nu metal, blasts it in the car after missions to loosen up his anxiety

He used to take uncalculated risks and pay for it physically when he was younger, but at 27? Hed rather get things done efficiently and quickly

Uses a gun to kill, he doesn't care for the gore and intimacy of using a blade

Hes a clean guy, he takes care of his skin enough that the other proxys bully him for it

He doesn't care

He smokes so much, he definitely is getting lung cancer

Hes allergic to grass, breaks out in hives if it gets on his bare skin too long

Hes been a proxy since he was 21, he has seniority over the others but that doesnt mean much to toby

He drives the others places, he carries a fake id just in case he gets pulled over

He is not the type to be caught and to be pulled over, but when it comes to driving, hes not gonna try and run. He knows he cant get away.

He doesn't work out, he is chubby and doesn't run well but he can get away because he always plans out escape routes beforehand

Barely sleeps, but usually sleeps through the day

Hoodie/brian

not quiet, not loud. He is just there.

He will get drunk to forget his past and current situation and cry in his room

He will take pills and mix it with whatever, he just wants to get out of his mind

Used to be a cheerful outgoing guy, hes a shell of his former self. Hes still happy at times, but its hard to feel anything anymore

He listens to depressing shit, but also likes rap

He takes care of himself, washing his clothes and showering daily. Which is more than toby can say.

He tends to stick around tim, hes a clinger

He likes to cook, will often cook for the proxys

Hes in charge of groceries and meat butchering animals toby hunts

He looks the most normal so he does everything that involves the outside world along with kate

He has a beer gut, and isnt big on weight lifting or anything. As long as he can run and tackle a victim hes fine

He gets along pretty well with kate and toby and is in a weird situationship with tim

He is 26, but became a proxy at 20

Uses a gun and a crowbar to kill, mainly opting for the gun

Can drive but is god awful at it

Has a pretty normal sleep schedule compared to the others, he wakes up at noon and sleeps around 2am if possible

Jeff

gross guy, just sleazy and dirty all around

He doesnt shower very often, much less wash his clothes

He REEKS of axe body spray

He kills for the fun of it, choosing harder targets to get more fun out of it

Always has a broken or fractured bone, he just powers through it until it hurts so bad he has to be in bed for a couple weeks

He plays video games with ben all the time

Very vulgar, doesn't hold back what he thinks of you

Good luck trying to get him to do any chore, bro lays down and doesn't get up for WEEKS

Walks around shirtless way too often

Its not that hes depressed, hes just indifferent to the world around him. He doesn't care if anyone lives or dies, as long as he can do what he wants

Very stalky, a lot of muscle but not a lot of body fat

He listens to heavy metal so loud he has slight hearing loss in his right ear

Has to recut his smile every week and he finds great joy in doing so. Its his self care.

He forgets to eat for days at a time, hes just not willing to get up

Smokes a shit ton of weed with toby and ben

He is 22

Slender HATES him because hes arrogant and doesn't try and hide from police

Rips open bodies and throws their organs everywhere

Nina

Scene queen

She is best friends with clockwork, they cling to each other like glue

She feels like an idiot for idolizing jeff

She still likes killing though. Shes got a taste for it and theres no going back to civilization so she might as well

She finds her victims on dating apps and catfishes them for weeks before killing them

She has some sort of anorexia, she is trying hard to recover though

She works out with clockwork for as long as she can before passing out or getting sick

She wants to go shopping but she doesn't know how to hide her mouth so she uses amazon to the proxy po box

Listens to 2000s clubbing music

Is deeply saddened because she cant go clubbing… shes only 19 and will never be able to be a normal teenager again

She still gets drunk though lmao

She is one of slenders favorites because of her brutality

She carves pieces of flesh out of her victims and rips their hearts out

Has the most clothes out of everyone, her outfits always serve cunt

Jack

some sort of shape shifter and prefers to be a animalistic furry beast

He purrs when happy

Dating toby, it is a very loving relationship

When hes not in a human form, he mainly communicates in chirps and chitters

He has an extensive medical knowledge and acts as a doctor for the rest of the pastas

He keeps his room sterile as possible, often choosing to sleep in tobys room to keep his room clean for his “patients”

He has a high iq but not in a human way. He is more like a super genius dog

He can see but not well

He likes to watch trash tv with toby to fall asleep

He has a “motherly instinct” where he takes care of people who he deems “weak” like nina, ben and sally

He has feral instincts, often going into the woods to rip apart a deer with his mouth and claws

He loves to lick people as a form of affection

He is a gentle giant, he kills only if he craves organs

He uses his medical knowledge to carefully dissect victims and to get the most organs efficiently

Doesn't need sleep, but likes to sleep while toby pets him

Clockwork

tans with self tanner and definitely uses those playboy bunny stickers bc nina gave her some

Works out but only so she can strangle her victims easier

She likes the power to kill people with her hands, she finds it very rewarding

She primarily kills men, and if possible she scopes out sex offenders and takes them out

She has a long self care routine that involves face masks and bath bombs. The bathroom is filled with her stuff

Best friends with nina and they do everything together

Listens to country music unironically and everyone makes fun of her for it. She doesn't think its funny

Thinks her murders are vigilante justice, sees herself as a good person

Aroace queen, she finds platonic love is enough for her

SHREDDED. GAHD DAMN.

Shes 23

Shes not fond of men in general, but gets along with jack well enough.

Carries mace and an eyepatch just in case

She sleeps all day and stays up all night, which is not unusual for the mansion's inhabitants but she sleeps especially hard, she wouldnt wake up if a bomb dropped

Ben

A poltergeist in the truest sense

He enjoys fucking with the apps in other pastas phones, sending messages to people and editing photos

He has a mental age of 18 or 19 but is dead so its not really reflected in his body

Chooses to walk while in the non digital world because he gets antsy

Plays video games all day, chooses to ignore responsibilities in favor of mastering a new game

Eats even though he doesn't have to, he can eat 5 party size chip bags a day easily

He doesn't wear his main outfit all the time, mostly just lounges around in a tee shirt and shorts

He LOVES anime. Hes a total weeb and has so many posters of popular shows. His favorite anime is tokyo ghoul

He listens to japanese music, mainly metal BUT NOT BABYMETAL. He has a weird hatred for babymetal

Has the most electronics of the pastas, 3 pc screens, a laptop, a switch, ps5, phone, xbox 360, and all the old nintendo consoles

His room is so crowded he has to fly to get through the door

Trash is everywhere, hes a total slob

He likes to troll people on twitter (or X if your a loser) and he is able to doxx people easily

Is good friends with jeff and toby

Sally

She is also a poltergeist, but not in the way ben is

Shes still in a kid mindset, despite being dead for years

She cant fly, she just creepily walks around

She can make lights go out

She has tea parties with the other pastas, slender makes sure they are nice to her

She has a beautiful princess room set up by masky

She sees masky as a protector

She likes mice and will sometimes bring home small rodents to play with (aka kill them and play with their corpses)

She likes to just sit and watch people go about their lives. She will sit between whoever is on the couch playing a game or watching tv and just observe

She likes the quiet, but unfortunately she cant really get that in the mansion

She sneaks off to the proxy house often to use kates noise canceling headphones

When kates awake she will play with sally but shes often knocked out

Lulu

very gentle, she kills only when shes mad

Its not easy to piss her off, but when shes mad it doesn't really show through

She cant see very well, but the fog helps her get around well enough

She and the other girls get along well enough but she still has trust issues with girls from The Incident

She loves to read but has to hold the book inches from her face

She didnt really want to be a caregiver, but she welcomes the role

Doesnt really do skin care but she does shower often

She hums a lot and it pisses jeff off

She has a adorable room, its all pastels and lace

She takes things from the kitchen and stashes them in case she ever needs them.

Shes a chronic kleptomaniac because she never knew if another girl would try and take her stuff when she was at school so she would always take extras

She carries a pocket knife with a scraper in case she needs to get eyes out

[wolfish-trickster]

I'm sorry, I can't choose you

Gojo x fem!reader, Geto x fem!reader

Part 5

Previous part

Word count: 1.8K

Summary: Gojo and you had a talk, he's still hoping you'll go back to him while you are fighting your own battles. Geto found out you knew about his crush and is also fighting a similar battle to yours.

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

A/N: I'm sorry the update took so long 😭 I was super busy with studying for finals BUT I finally passed all seven of them today so, as promised, here is another chapter. Will start working on another one to release it as soon as possible to make up for the time there wasn't any. Thank you for waiting and enjoy the reading <3

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @tqd4455 @nanao4k @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @username23345 @www-kiana-mp3 @wirwirfr @rjt017 @yu-87 @mars-is-here @yozora7154

To say the atmosphere in Shoko's house was depressing was an understatement. Gojo was paler than his hair, practically no soul behind his eyes. You weren't any better. You were so tired. Mentally and physically drained. This entire situation took a huge toll on you, both of you. The only thing you wished for right now was to get out on the fresh air and not think about any of this anymore, yet you were too scared to even move.

A key scratched against the keyhole. The door handle jiggled. Both of you looked at the front door, awaiting some sort of a judge to close the case and release both of your from this misery.

Geto's huge body nearly blocked the entire door frame. He was breathing heavily as if he sprinted here. Maybe he did. You didn't care why. He was a saviour either way.

"I'm done talking to you Gojo," you whispered while still looking at Geto, hoping he would take him away, to his home or for a drink or somewhere. Didn't matter where. Just gone.

Instead he walked towards the table and stood infront of both of you. "Are you done talking?" he said inbetween heavy breaths.

"I am," you said.

"I'm not."

"Gojo. We. Are. Done."

"That's not just for you to decide!"

"Satoru," Geto interrupted before you could open your mouth, "you talked, that's what you wanted, right? Now, do as you promised and go home. I need to talk with her too."

Gojo's eyes filled with hope behind his shades. His best friend is a true saviour. He will convice you to give him another chance. Suguru always had a way with words, was sophisticated and always knew how to convice others to do his bidding. Besides, Suguru's foolish riding was the reason why the two of you started talking in the first place. Once a matchmaker...

Without a word Gojo stood up from his chair, put it back in its place, took one last sad look at you, your tired face, glassy eyes, hair a mess. He couldn't help but reach out to touch you one last time. He wiped a dried tear from your face. "I'm sorry. I know it's late to say it but I want you to know."

Once his back faced you he looked at his best friend and gave him a grateful smile. Gojo mentally thanked Geto for stepping in and helping him clean up his mess before he walked towards the front door. Once the front door closed Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing up his manbun.

"Well, I guess you know what I wanted to talk with you."

You genuenly had no idea. It only now downed on you who you were in one room with. Geto Sugur. Also known as the reason behind your break up with your ex boyfriend, a best friend to said ex and also a man who has had a crush on you ever since you met both him AND your afore-mentioned ex. And he wants to talk with you. Yup, the universe has a pretty twisted sense of humor.

"I have few theories..." you said carefully.

"Does any of them involve this?" He said and held his phone infront of your face for you to read. It was the chat from last night. Oh.

You squirmed in your seat and looked away.

Geto smiled more to himself than to you. "I guess you must be pretty uncomfortable right now."

"A little," you admitted.

"Well don't be," he reassured you, " I didn't come here to ask you out." As much as he wanted to.

As soon as he realized it was you talking to him last night his chest swelled with hope. He ran like he never did back to Shoko's house. The closer he got the more excited he felt. Until his conscience woke up. It beat him up internally. How dare you, it said. You try to convice the whole world you're a good person by not wanting to hurt your best friend and yet now you're hoping that girl will fall into your arms because she accidentally found out you love her? How stupid can you be?! Did you even think about how Satoru might feel?

Yes, he did. He thought of it every night when he caught himself daydreaming about you. How a life by your side might look like. He knew he was only hurting himself more but he had no idea how else to deal with all these feelings. Was he really willing to keep his word to not date you even if you and Gojo break up? He wanted to. God he really did. But the temptation to woo you and finally have you in his arms.

You're a cruel monster, his conscience yelled at him again. You don't deserve her, nor Satoru.

He never hated himself more than when he slammed the door open. He saw both of you sitting there looking like a total mess. His conscience screamed at him, he screamed back, but ultimately his voice just wasn't loud enough.

"Can I ask how long?" your soft voice interrupted his stream of thoughts.

"How long what?"

"You know..."

"How long have I had a crush on you?"

You nodded.

"Do you remember when all four of us hung out and we came across a lost kid?"

Nod again. How could you forget. It was the first day your heart sped up when you looked at Gojo.

Geto leaned his lower half against the kitchen table, still not looking at you. "You were so adorable helping that little kid. Reasuring him, wiping his tears, holding his hand while searching for his dad. You were so gentle and I just wanted to protect you in this cruel world. But that role fell on Satoru," his smile vanished, "and as you can see he majorly fucked up."

Your chest hurt. Poor Geto. Even though he was the source of Gojo's absence you now knew he had no idea. He was innocent in this mess and you were wrongfully angry at him for stealing your boyfriend away from you. And after hearing this you felt a huge urge to apologize to him.

So you did.

"I'm so sorry Geto."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Well, at least now you know."

"Did Gojo know?"

Geto gave you a deadpan look. "Would I still be alive if he did?"

You frowned in confusion. "Yeah? I mean, he was never the jealous type."

He chuckled. "Him? Not the jealous type? Please, he got all pouty even when a stray cat responded to my 'pstpstpst' and completely ignored him."

"But," you blinked. This information was new to you. "Whenever I spoke with a male colleague he was super chill. Once I even played a prank on him to see his jealousy level but he had no reaction. None at all."

Geto hummed but didn't say anything. He had some theories about this, one worse than another, but to spare you more wounds on your heart he kept quiet.

He shook his head. "Whether he got rid of his jealousy or not, can you still please keep it to yourself? The man's a mess as it is, if he found out it would crush him."

"Sure," you said and rubbed his arm a little. "I really am sorry."

He smiled and gently shook your hand off of him. Your touch has always been pleasant to him but now that his ugly little secret is out it was more painful than walking barefoot on bunch of blades. "It's okay. You did nothing wrong. I should be the one to apologize."

Your comforting being rejected hurt a little, you weren't even sure why. "Apologize for what? You can't help feeling certain things towards someone," change of subject to take your mind off of him rejecting your touch and possibly going to thoughts you weren't ready for yet.

"True, but," he got quiet for a while. "I'm still sorry."

You smiled at him reassuringly. "I don't know if it will make you feel better but I'm sure you'll find someone much better than me. You're kind, smart, level headed, your heart is in the right place. There will be bunch of girls wanting you in the future."

"Kinda sucks that the only girl I want is the ex of my best friend."

Your heart ached. If only Suguru was someone completely foreign to Gojo you would've- NO. No way. Even if you could see a million green flags in this man when compared to your ex he's still the best and possibly only friend of said ex. You can't even think about getting together with him. Why were you thinking that in the first place?!

"Well," Geto straightened up and looked at you for the first time. You hated how your heart skipped a beat when his purple eyes met yours. "To spare us more heartache and embarassment I'll be going now."

Without thinking you reached out and grabbed onto his sleeve stopping him from leaving.

Nobody dared to move. Both of you had the same question on your mind: why did you do that?

In the end without turning around Geto whispered. "Please," his voiced cracked, "don't give me hope. It hurts so much as it is right now."

Only then you realized in how much more pain he must be right now. His position in all of this was way worse than yours. You let his sleeve go.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. If you spoke any louder your voice would crack too.

Geto didn't respond. All he did was quietly walk out.

Neither of you noticed the crown of white hair outside the opened kitchen window.