#pls tag me if you write any of these

[free-for-all-fics]

The Phantom of the Opera (1990 Miniseries) Prompts! These got very long but this is one of my favorite adaptations and my brain wouldn’t stop. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas and I’d love to read it! 🎭🧡

1. In Erik’s lair underneath the Opera House, he has a room that contains a fireplace, a portrait of his mother, and a baby’s cradle. Inside the cradle is a headless baby doll. The baby doll’s head is shown disfigured with angry red scars, probably mutilated by Erik to resemble his own face. Erik found love and happiness with you as his wife and you later discovered you were with child. Even though you and Erik fashioned it into a suitable home as best as you could, it was no place for a child so small. As Gerard said, the catacombs underneath the Opera House aren’t exactly a healthy place to live in. Your child unfortunately died in infancy of an indeterminate cause. It was nobody’s fault. It just happened suddenly overnight. They were fine…until they weren’t.

“You sleep well?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Me too. The baby didn’t make a sound all night.” You give Erik a kiss before getting out of bed to enter your baby’s room and rouse them from their slumber. They look to be fast asleep in Erik’s old cradle.

“Hey you, it’s time to wake up and greet the morning,” you coo with a smile, but you notice something’s wrong when you touch them gently. They’re snuggled underneath soft baby blankets and the fire in the fireplace is still burning strong, but their skin feels cold. Far too cold. “Baby?” When they neither gurgle nor stir, you scream for your husband. Your voice is strained, as if your throat is full of cotton. You’re panicking and are about to cry at any moment.

“Erik? ERIK?! There’s something wrong—There’s something wrong with the baby.” Your husband enters the baby’s room in a flash, rushing to your side. He reaches into the cradle to inspect your child while you take several steps back, not wanting to see. Not wanting to believe what you already know to be true.

“Oh, God. Oh, my God. Dear God. They’re dead. Our baby is dead.”

“No. They can’t be! No! My baby! NO!”

2. For something much happier: You fell in love with and later married Erik, happily living with him underneath the Opera House as his beautiful bride. Usually nobody who’s seen his face is allowed to leave. Up there is where Hell is and Erik wouldn’t dare send an angel such as you to Hell, but you were able to change his mind. You’re his best friend, his wife whom he loves and trusts with all his heart. Despite knowing all the terrible things he’s done as the Opera Ghost and what his face looks like beneath the mask, you still love him unconditionally. He’s perfect in your eyes. So he lets you ascend and takes you back up whenever you wish.

Gerard wasn’t getting any younger and only had a few years left - both you and Erik knew that. It was Gerard who found an officiant who was more than happy to marry you and Erik properly. The officiant told you himself that you’d be surprised how many marriages he did for forbidden, star-crossed lovers such as yourselves. You and Erik were glad Gerard could be there to witness your vows, but he couldn’t help his son forever so you needed to step up and be the one to run errands. When you reached the hidden passage to the surface and Erik could go no further, you’d kiss him goodbye with a promise of returning soon. An hour or two later and you’d come back with food and other necessities, which Erik would help you carry to your home down below. You’re happy with the way things are for a year or so - but then you discover you’re with child and, suddenly, the catacombs under the Opera House doesn’t seem like a suitable home for you anymore. It’s not the healthiest place to raise a child, so you start coming up with ideas for better living arrangements.

If it’ll make Erik more comfortable, you’ll find a cute little house out in the countryside and away from the city. When you tell Erik you’re pregnant with his child, he cries tears of happiness and tears of fear. He never dreamed he’d be blessed with a wife or a child but, oh God, what if the child is cursed with his face? You run your fingers through his hair and rub his back as he cries and whimpers into your lap. The only other time you saw him in this state was when you consummated your marriage for the first time.

Erik has spent his entire existence believing he’s fit for nowhere but these gloomy vaults bereaved of light, like blackness itself. For he is blackness itself, isn’t he? You try your best to convince him that you both need to move forward with your lives. You need to re-enter Paris society to give your child their best chance at a healthy and normal life. You want to give them the proper education, socialization, etc. They’ll need sunlight, plenty of space to run around and play, and the opportunity to make friends. They wouldn’t thrive down here, isolated in the dark tunnels beneath the Opera House.

You know it’ll be a big adjustment and incredibly scary for him, but you assure Erik that all of you will be perfectly safe. You promise him that it’ll be good for his health. He’ll get used to living in the world above, surrounded by fresh air and sunlight. He’ll even grow to love it, in time. You’ll be right by his side and he won’t have to do it alone. He’ll have both you and the baby, and hopefully more children will follow. Erik knows you’re right, but he’s just so apprehensive of change. The Opera House has been his home for so long, it’s all he’s ever known. He doesn’t know how he’d be able to just leave it all behind. But with you by his side, he’ll summon the courage and the strength to do anything - even start anew.

3. Following the traumatic experiences he suffered in childhood after losing his dear mother, Belladova, to fever when he was three, Erik becomes very concerned whenever you fall sick. Even something as common as a cold has him worried and hovering over you. If you so much as sneeze, he’s on high alert. He’s always prepared, ready to hand you a clean handkerchief or give you anything else you may need to feel better. If he must, he’ll go to Gerard for help in procuring items from the apothecary. He’s very doting, sometimes smothering when he acts as your personal nurse and watches over you. Dearest, are you well? Eating well? Sleeping well? How does the heat affect you? Even though it’s so hot, you must always be wrapped up against any sudden changes. You assure your beloved Erik that you’re very well and healthy. You know that every care that could be taken is taken for your better comfort, thanks to his attentiveness. Gerard told you about Belladova’s untimely death, so you understand Erik’s trauma and fears regarding sickness. You’re patient with him when you have to assure him multiple times that you’ll be fine and will recover, you just need to rest. You won’t leave him like she did, you promise.

4. Carlotta used the wrong kind of herbs and inadvertently poisoned you to the point of near-death in her attempt to make you lose your voice. On opening night, you’re bedridden with fever, pale countenance, drowsiness, dizziness or weakness, chills, loss of appetite, mental confusion, loss of consciousness, etc. In your delirium, you think you’re still needed on stage and shouldn’t be lying in bed, so you keep trying to get up. Your friends, consisting of the ballerinas and chorus girls, do their best to urge you to lie down and rest, all you need to do is rest. They try to bathe your forehead and look after you, but you find it hard to remain still, complaining of headache and dizziness. They watch on in worry as they try to stop you from accidentally hurting yourself until you finally succumb to fitful sleep just as the doctors arrive.

Watching you from within the walls, surrounded by doctors and looking so unwell, drives Erik to seek revenge on Carlotta for what she’s done to you. Out of petty jealousy, the odious woman nearly killed you. He shows up in her suite and empties a suitcase full of rats all over her, driving her into insanity as she babbles and sings incoherently. Or he may do something far worse. He soon returns to your room using the secret passageways and spirits you away to his underground lair. You can’t be left alone in such a fragile state and need someone to watch over you. Erik couldn’t bear it if you were taken from him in the same manner his dear mother, Belladova, was. She was the first woman he ever loved and she succumbed to fever when he was but three years old. He’ll be damned if he lets you, the only other woman he’s ever loved, slip away from him too. He wouldn’t survive it. Not again. With or without Gerard’s help, he’ll make sure you have medicine and everything else you could possibly need. He’ll act as your nurse until you fully recover. Taking you back up isn’t an option. He won’t hear of it, not even from Gerard.

“Now you listen to me. For as long as I can remember, ever since I was a child, I have dreamed of her. Now people are born for many things, Gerard. I was born to live, if one can call this living, down here. But until now I have never known quite why. I was born so that she could save me, but that’s what she’s done. She’s the reason I was born. I love her, Gerard. And I believe, in time, with any luck, she will learn to love me. It will be a cruel God indeed to have sent her otherwise.”

5. Erik being the softest, most doting husband you could ever ask for. He not only gifts you pretty dresses, but he helps you put them on and take them off. With so many things to lace and button, and so many buttons being tiny, close together, and often in hard-to-reach places in the case of undergarments, it’s no wonder that many women relied on the help of a lady’s maid or an obliging sister for help getting dressed. But you have no sisters and no maids, so must rely on your husband to help you get ready for the day and prepare for bed at night. Whenever you can’t decide what you should wear for the day, he picks out a dress for you.

“This is what you will wear.”

He ties your dress laces for you while you brush out your hair. He holds the hand mirror for you while you fix your hairdo or makeup. Sometimes you curse women’s fashion for being so complicated and coming with so many layers, but Erik is always ever so patient in helping you get ready. It’s probably one of his favorite parts of the day.

“Forgive me, I’m hurrying as fast as I can.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve never seen such perfection.”

You, of course, return the favor by tying his cravats for him when his fingers seem to fumble and he just can’t get it right, helping him with his cuff links, or buttoning up his vests and coats. You’d go for strolls and have picnics in the woods which he planted. Filled with imitations of woodland animals which he had built, this is the most enchanted spot of all the places in his realm.

6. You’re Erik’s twin sister and live with him underneath the Opera House, having also been born with facial deformities and forced to wear a mask. Your mother, Belladova, saw nothing ugly in her children at all. She thought you and Erik were absolutely perfect and beauty itself. She would sing to you for hours. When you were children, you and Erik saw your reflections in the water of the lake and thought they were sea monsters - and then you realized it was you yourselves. It was not an easy day for either of you or Gerard. Belladova died of fever when you were three and Gerard thought, “and now they will die, and that will be a mercy to all of us.” But your mother begged Gerard to take care of you both, and so he watched over his twins thinking, “If they die, they die.”

With your mother gone, you both began to cry. Your cries would echo up through the shafts and cracks. At night when the Opera House was empty, people could hear them up above. And so the legend of the Opera Ghosts was born. Gerard became manager and let this ghost story grow to make sure nobody would discover either of you. Erik creates beautiful masks for you and himself. You’ve never shown your faces to anyone except each other, unmasking only in the privacy of your underground home when you feel safest and can be sure no trespassers or intruders will stumble upon you.

While Erik’s composing, you’re often dancing to his music or catching the stray rats that find a home in the catacombs by the lake. You don’t always kill them right away, believing they’re your friends. The rats tell you things! Gerard can’t be sure, but he theorizes that Belladova taking the poison to try to induce a miscarriage was the cause of your hallucinations and delusions, as well as yours and Erik’s facial deformities. When you were a girl, you were frightened by your first menstrual cycle and refused to allow Erik to inspect you for what he imagined was a wound. Neither you nor Erik understood why you were bleeding and suffering stomach pains and other strange physical symptoms. You both thought you were dying until Gerard had to explain it to you to the best of his ability. It was very awkward, scary, and gross, but you were relieved it was normal and you weren’t dying after all. Since Gerard has grown old and only has a few more years, Erik has become your primary protector and caregiver. He has to watch you very closely whenever you have another episode because you’ve often wandered off while talking to yourself or telling fairytale stories you make up on the spot. They coincidentally reflect your own life experiences, such as:

“In 1851, the Queen died so the King commissioned a labyrinth to house his son and daughter. The daughter was clever and escaped within a few days. But no one was aware of this, so the people believed she was still trapped. The only things in the maze were rats and rodents, So the Princess was henceforth called the Rat Queen!”

Erik has become very in tune with your behavior, what your footsteps and voice sound like, etc., even when he’s composing or playing music. He can tell the differences between when you’re lucid and when you’re muddled. He’s always been able to catch up to you and bring you back down before you made it up the stairs and opened up a secret passageway to the surface. After exiting his office, Choleti and Carlotta were once stopped in their tracks after hearing scurrying coming from the walls and…faint giggling? Erik stopped you from exposing yourself to the people above and gently wrapped his arms around you, holding your hand or carrying you bridal style as he guided you back home. He tucked you into bed once you were in the safety of your bedroom and sang you a sweet lullaby so you’d go to sleep. He had to kill Joseph Buquet when the wardrobe man ventured down below and found where you lived. Buquet almost discovered you during another one of your wanderings and Erik did what he had to do to protect you. Buquet could’ve seen your faces. You know what Erik is capable of, but he told you so himself that he doesn’t like killing people. Neither of you understand the world above, but you’re happy listening to the music.

When Carlotta poisons Christine and makes her lose her voice during her debut, Erik comes to you for help in getting revenge. You consider Christine a friend, so you happily provide him with a suitcase of live rats and use the secret passageways to hide it in a closet that’ll be ready for him. Carlotta is sitting at her vanity applying makeup when Erik purposefully strides into the room as casually as if he belongs there, forgoing his usual method of stealth. She freezes in terror as he promptly empties the suitcase full of rats all over her. Rats for a rat. After Christine faints upon seeing your faces, you try to console Erik as he cries and wails in agony. You try to stop him from destroying your home, but have to step back and keep your distance to avoid getting hit by falling objects. He’s hurt, he’s angry, but it’s never been this bad before. Despite what’s happened, Christine is still your friend so you help her escape by unlocking the door to her cage and distracting Erik just long enough so she can get a head start before he runs after her.

Erik becomes despondent and very ill after Christine leaves him, and you soon follow. Yours and Erik’s terminally ill state consists of coughing fits and shortness of breath, though neither of you bring up blood. Gerard is by your side and offers to fetch you water, then reveals he’s your father. You and Erik just nod your heads. You’ve both known the truth for many years and were just wondering when Gerard would finally say. Erik has Gerard’s eyes and you have Belladova’s, so it wasn’t very hard to connect the dots. You both have your mother’s soul and Gerard could never leave you nor regret any day spent with his children.

“You should go.”

“What if I stay?”

“Privacy is best for this. Come back in…a day. We’d thought about being buried in our lagoon. Then we thought no, we’d float up and scare some poor child downstream.”

“I will bury you.”

“And make it deep with no markings. There will be an inevitable curiousity.”

“No one will find you.”

“It’s our faces we’re concerned about.”

“You will not end up on display.”

You and Erik lay down side by side and either hold hands or hug as you wait for death, wanting to feel the comfort of each other’s embrace before you go. You were born together, you lived together, and you hope to die together. You succumb to your sickness within the hour. Erik feels your body become stiff and cold, but he only holds you tighter as he weeps for you, glad he’ll soon follow. He kisses you goodbye on the cheek or forehead and doesn’t open his eyes until he hears music. Not just any music, but Faust being sung by Christine. She’s come back. The realization that Christine loves him is enough for Erik to revive from his mysterious illness to sing a magnificent duet with her. After Gerard fatally shoots Erik, Christine unmasks him and smiles, kissing him on the forehead before he dies. Your body is recovered from the catacombs and she kisses your face as well, before replacing your mask and walking away with Philippe. Gerard fulfills his promise to his dearly departed children - He buries you and Erik together in an unmarked grave, in a place where nobody will ever find you.

7. Gerard had only been married to another woman for less than a month. The details of this marriage don’t really matter except there was a child on the way and the girl claimed that he was responsible. Gerard says himself that it could’ve been his, so what if it was? That child is you, but Gerard didn’t love your mother and she felt the same toward him. So as soon as possible, with her blessings, he left. Gerard still provided for you financially and shared custody with your mother, so you’d spend lots of time with him in the Paris Opera House. You’d go exploring while your father worked, often giving the person or people watching over you the slip.

You wandered down into the catacombs of the Opera House, following the sounds of a child crying. You came across a little boy wearing a mask. He looked to be just about your age, maybe a little younger. You introduced yourselves to each other and comforted him until his crying ceased. Though curious as to why he wore a mask, you didn’t ask questions and assumed it was part of the game he was playing by himself. You complimented how pretty it was and then played with him. You’re not sure how long you played together down there, but Gerard eventually found you. He was so angry at you for wandering off, but deep down he was just afraid you may have gotten hurt or kidnapped. Gerard never wanted you to come down here or find out about Erik, but it’s too late now. Erik’s never had any friends and has been sad ever since his mother’s death. Gerard figured his son must be so lonely when he can’t be there with him, so he reluctantly lets you come down below with him to play with Erik from time to time, so he can keep an eye on both of you. He never tells you and Erik the truth.

As you blossom into womanhood, your visits to Erik become less and less due to your busy schedule. Since joining the Opera Company as a ballerina, your days have been sacrosanct and filled with rehearsals. You’ve had no time to visit your friend. Despite your talent and years of hard work, you’re still stuck in the ensemble. The Prima Ballerina is an arrogant and spoiled woman who suffers from a bad case of massive self-importance. She’s gotten the role of Prima Ballerina only because she’s married to the new manager, and not on any show of merit or talent. She can’t dance, but obviously she doesn’t know that. She already has a reputation for being a brilliant but heartless and soulless ballerina and, at the first opportunity, resolves to smother your career by all means possible. She uses her position of power as the manager’s wife to deny you opportunities for any career advancement, spreads malicious rumors about you around the Opera House, and goes out of her way to make everyday life in the Opera House difficult for you. Gerard doesn’t have his job anymore so there’s not much he can do to help you, though he does try.

Your rival is threatened by Erik if she performs instead of you. But she thinks herself the victim of a thousand jealous attempts and goes about saying that she has a secret enemy who has sworn to ruin her. She pretends that a wicked plot is being hatched against her. Neither she nor her husband believe in ghosts, so they shrug the warnings off and she performs anyway. When she does, however, her performance is a disaster due to Erik tampering with her ballet shoes or costume. Embarrassed, she hides from the public view for a few weeks. Erik uses ventriloquism to speak to her and her husband through the walls of the Manager’s Office.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Who’s that?”

“Who do you think? The sooner you both leave the sooner your ordeal will be over. Forgive me if I don’t stay to chat, but I have other matters to attend to now.”

When she returns to the stage, you’re performing as Prima Ballerina in her stead. You receive great applause and esteem, and your dressing room is full of flowers from your fans and admirers. She sees you as the one great threat to her status and career. Her jealousy of you is so bad that she sabotages your performance as Princess Odette in Swan Lake (or any famous ballet of your choosing). Her meddling causes you to suffer a terrible fall and/or injure your leg. This is especially egregious as you’re her understudy and her responsibility.

Erik is enraged by your public humiliation and brings down the chandelier on the audience. While everyone is in a mass panic and distracted by the disaster, he kidnaps you and takes you away, carrying you bridal style since it’s hard for you to move. In the safety of his underground lair, he lays you down on his bed and personally nurses you back to health for days, caring for your injured leg using medical supplies that he either stole or had Gerard retrieve for him. When Gerard comes down to try to convince Erik to let you go, he refuses. He scoffs at the very idea.

“Erik, you must send her back. If you don’t, they’ll come down and take her back. And when they do, they’ll kill you.”

“The world up there is not fit for one such as her. She was betrayed tonight and I’d sooner die than let her be betrayed again! Could’ve burned the place down, better in ashes and memory than like this. Send her back? Never! I may be hideous but I’m not hideous enough to do that!“

When Gerard comes to you to urge you to flee, he tells you the entire story of his romance with Belladova, Erik’s mother. He tells you every last detail about his marriage to your birth mother, his love affair with Belladova, all of it. Until finally he divulges the shocking truth to you - You’re Erik’s paternal half-sister.

“I don’t believe this.”

“You’d better, because he plans to keep you down here forever. You see, he loves you. He’s always loved you.”

You’ve always loved him too. He’s been your dearest friend, but you see him in a new light now that you know he’s your half-brother. You understand now that he terrorized the Opera Company all these years out of love for you. He watched over you from the shadows and saw your potential. He knew you possessed great talent and wanted your ballet career to soar. He wouldn’t let anyone stand in your way. You were destined for stardom and just needed a little help from him.

When you and Erik are alone, you convince him to remove his mask and finally show you his face. He wouldn’t do this for anyone and he’s scared of your reaction, but you’re his best friend and you’ve known him since you were children - so he grants your request. When you see his face for the first time, you don’t faint. You don’t scream or cry out. You smile. He’s perfect to you because his soul is as pure as an angel’s. You don’t care what his face looks like because you’ve seen his eyes. You reach out towards his face with your hand as if you want to caress his cheek, but you hesitate and stop yourself short to ask for his permission first. You’re afraid your touch would hurt him or cause him physical pain. Does he usually feel any pain or discomfort on his face? Erik lets you touch his face and nearly cries when you kiss his forehead.

When Gerard confesses to Erik that he’s his father and you’re his half-sister, Erik only nods his head. He’s known that Gerard was his father and you were his half-sister ever since he was a child. Erik admits his eyes are the only part of his face he can look at in a mirror without wishing to break the glass - but they’re not Belladova’s eyes, they’re Gerard’s. You inherited your father’s eyes too, and Erik noticed the family resemblance early on.

[neoheros]

the miya household is always the go-to household for all kinds of celebrations alike. you name it: birthdays, anniversaries, friday night dinners – check, check, check.

atsumu has always grown up in a home where his mom would host the parties for all her grown-up friends, and he’d always be the type of teenager to hide away in his room until the last of the guests finally leave.

it was a silly thing to do looking back on it now, but that was the old miya household.

in the new miya household (population: you and your husband), the two of you can’t just hide away in your broom closet until the last of the guests leave — it is your apartment after all.

at first, it was the big things: msby jackal’s celebration of their first tournament win (where hinata broke a window because he claims bokuto pushed him into it) or akaashi’s job promotion party (where the champagne bottle was so unfortunately aimed that when the corkscrew came flying, it hit the other non-broken window).

two broken windows later, it eventually died down to the little things: small get-togethers, a friend too intoxicated to drive needing a place to stay, or one of your favorites: friday night dinners.

“we’re home!”

there’s the sound of shuffling keys and shoes being taken off at the doorway, rustling of brown paper bags and footsteps.

you pop your head out from the kitchen and it isn’t a surprise at all to you when you see all four of your best friends (one being your husband) standing by your door way, all adorned with cheeky smiles and chinese takeout.

you call to them, “coats here, everybody!”

hinata goes over to you first, still as sweet as ever, and gives you a tight embrace (the same one he gives you every friday night), and you take his coat with a light smile on your face.

bokuto gives you his coat next, paired with an embrace of his own, your smile widens as you immediately recognize the coat you bought him for christmas last year, well and taken care of.

sakusa isn’t wearing a coat or a jacket tonight but still, he approaches you next to the coat stand anyway, and he embraces you just for seeing you again tonight, saying “thank you for having us”.

when you married atsumu, you didn’t realize you weren’t only marrying into his family, but his friends as well.

“you guys just missed samu, he dropped by for a weekly restock.” you tell them, pointing to the plastic bag on the table filled to the brim with the onigiri you’ve learned to love so much.

shoyo plops down on his usual spot on the sofa, “man, i wish onigiri miya personally delivered to my house too.”

“not to mention free of charge.” you add – proud.

he sinks deeper into his seat, “that’s just not fair.”

you seat farthest from tv, on the edge of the table and by the armrest, a seat empty next to yours as you wait for your husband.

“sorry sho,” you shrug, not sorry at all, smug smile on your face and you say, “it’s simply the perks of having the owner of onigiri miya as your brother.”

“that is such a lie.” atsumu rolls his eyes, and he takes his assigned seat next to you, hand immediately finding yours once he gets close enough. “i am also his brother — twin, even! — and i do not get half as much the perks you get.”

“well.” sakusa sits across from you, “i can understand that.”

and bokuto, in between sakusa and hinata, nods, “yep.”

“i can’t believe i’m getting bullied in my own damn home.” atsumu grumbles, and he stabs his broccoli on his plate with a fork.

you tease him, “you can’t?”

the rest of the evening feels warm. the windows are open to let in the fresh air of the streets of japan, the hustling and bustling of the bypassers outside your apartment building easily drowned out by the warm conversation shared in the warm flat.

( “no more hoisin sauce?” bokuto asks, digging around the stack of empty paperbags, fork in his mouth as he talks.

sakusa replies, barely looking up from the movie on the tv set, “sorry, finished it.”

and bokuto says, casually, “i’ll bring some over tomorrow. you guys need a restock anyway.” )

the five of you, sat down on the living room in front of the television, sharing mindlessly stories about your day, laughter and insults and compliments shared as food is passed around.

atsumu takes the red peppers from your dish as you laugh at something hinata says, he remembers - always - red peppers make you sneeze, so it goes unsaid that he takes them.

he does this so often that sometimes he doesn’t even realize it. he does this so often that he’s probably done it over a hundred times by now — like it’s part of him, like a habit.

you take some of your chow mein and place it on his plate, he doesn’t ask you for any, but you give him some anyway. you don’t even look at him as you do so, like it’s completely second nature for your hand to give him some of his favorite noodles and you don’t even have to think about it — like it’s part of you, like a habit.

“so, what time’s the game tomorrow?” you ask, and suddenly he’s out of his thoughts and back on the living room couch.

hinata looks to you, excited, “are you coming? it’s been so long since you last came to watch us.”

“well, depends on the time,” you tell them, “i’ve got a study group tomorrow in the morning.”

“study group?”

“i know right,” your shoulders fall, “our gen chem professor had us divided into study groups so we could easily catch up on her lessons.”

atsumu shrugs, “so? ditch ‘em.”

“i wish.” you sigh, “they’re the kind of people i just know wouldn’t have let me sit with them at the lunch table in high school.”

“oh, i know those people.” shoyo shakes his head, “had those people everywhere i went in junior high.”

you look at atsumu, “but you probably could have sat with them, you’ve got an aura like that — like you could be cool — but you’re not.”

that makes him roll his eyes, “who’s not cool? i am the coolest one in this table — and for yer information, i wouldn’t sit at any table ya weren’t welcome at.”

(sakusa nods at you, and bokuto says, “same here!” and hinata says, “me too!”)

“matter of fact,” you husband, offended at your doubt for him, continues, “i would flip that goddamn table.”

(and sakusa nods again, and bokuto says, “yup!” and hinata says, “definitely!)

your face feels warm, and you feel stupid for even bringing it up.

“you guys are silly.” you’re not as loud as earlier, but still, you say, “thanks.” and you bite back a smile.

“so…” shoyo grins at you, “ditch ‘em?”

“ditch ‘em!” bokuto repeats.

and for a second all of you look at sakusa, his turn to speak apparently, and he sighs, defeated, shoulders falling and he relents, and says, “fine. ditch ‘em.”

the three other guys cheer loudly and you roll your eyes.

“well, that makes four of us.” atsumu tells you, proud, “you’re outnumbered, honey.”

“fine.” you’re defeated, “i’ll ditch ‘em and come watch you guys play.” and the table erupts in cheers again, and you feel your heart become so full.

atsumu kisses your cheek and you swat him away.

“i’ll text natsu that you’re coming, she’s been pestering me over and over again when you’ll come next,” shoyo tells you, bright smile on his face.

bokuto nods, “i gotta tell akaashi too, maybe we can get everyone there like a reunion or something!”

and this makes you laugh, because, “you guys are acting like i haven’t come to watch you guys play in forever.”

and sakusa tells you, “it has been forever.”

“well, i guess a reunion or something would be kinda nice? we can have everyone come back here, bring out a few drinks.” you think out loud, relenting to the pleas of your oldest friends, and you can’t hold back a smile even if you wanted to.

“if anyone breaks a goddamn window in my home, everyone is getting charged the repair bill.”

the night ends quicker than you want it to, suddenly it’s 10 pm and the warm night starts to get colder.

“thank you for dinner, miyas.” bokuto tells you, grinning ear to ear as you walk him to the doorway, a barrage of shoes laid out on the floor, reminding you what a full house you have tonight.

you hand him his coat and his hat, and he embraces you tightly, one that you will never not return.

hinata comes up to you next, “thank you for dinner and please please please come tomorrow.”

“yes sho, i will be there.” you tell him lightly, and he embraces you as well (the same one he gives you every friday night).

the last to come up to you is sakusa, his hands already in his pockets, eyes tired and all. he doesn’t have a coat or a jacket, but he comes up to you anyway.

“thank you for having us.” he tells you, like he always does, and he gives you a short kiss on your right temple, like he always does, “it’s good to see you.”

you pat his arm, “you say that every friday night, omi.”

“what? no kiss for me?” atsumu calls from the side, arms crossed over his chest.

and sakusa replies, eyes narrowing, “never.”

(they have this conversation every single friday night.)

and just like that, all three of your guests for the night have left, leaving behind only two pairs of shoes left by the doorway — yours and your husband’s.

atsumu makes his way to you, his arms finding your waist immediately as he pulls you into his embrace, hugging you like it’s all he’s ever done correctly.

the apartment is quiet now with just you and him, and he loves this as much as he loves you.

“finally,” he tells you, smiling wantonly, “just us two.”

you smile back at him, “we have so many kids.”

and he nods, “even more tomorrow.”

your apartment, your home, it isn’t anything impressive, really. it’s not big or expensive or fancy, but for some reason, it’s always been the go-to place for everyone to have drinks at, for dinners to be shared, for windows to be broken.

“you really okay with that? the reunion thing here?” your husband asks you, his tone gentle, “its okay if you’re not, we can just cancel on ‘em. have the night to ourselves.”

you raise a brow, teasing, “and do what exactly?”

atsumu gives you a knowing grin, “i’ve got a list in mind.”

you laugh, “i bet you do.”

he comes closer to your face, “i can cross one off on it right now.”

and he kisses you then, the same way he does every single day of his life, the same way he plans to for a million years more.

you feel his smile melting into his kisses.

then he pulls away, smiling at you, voice gentle, cheeks pink, and heart full, “thank you for dinner, miya.”

you laugh again, and with the same amount of gentleness, you say back, “thank you for dinner, miya.”

atsumu knows you could never be unloved by him — you are too tangled in his mind, in his soul that you might as well take his heart entirely — it’s already full of you anyway, it has been since the day he’s met you.

“and no, we are not cancelling on them.” you tell him, pulling away, “i miss our friends and i know you do too.”

he tells you, “fine.” and he pulls you back in, nose close to yours, wide grin on his face as he takes you.

he wants to kiss you again, but to be fair, he wants to do that all of the time.

you give him a smile, “i’ll let you cross another thing off that list of yours if you do the dishes.”

and he groans, “you know omi already did them.”

“man, we have got to get lazier friends.”

“well, we can always call that study group of yours.”

(the two of you say friends, but it feels a whole lot more like family.)

together you and atsumu create a home filled with flowers, kindness, cozy pillows, and loud music. in your halls there is rest, good sex, good sleep, books, and dancing. there is space to be you, there is space to be him, there is space to be be the two of you, and there is love, there is love, there is love.

[rex-meshla]

Clones I wish got more attention in fanfiction...

Captain Howzer | Commander Keeli | Commander Bly | Commander Colt

*btw, you can find my Howzer and Colt fics here x

[rawbin-hsr]

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves.

Read part 2 here !

Only barely proof-read, guaranteed to have lots of grammatical errors, English is not my first language and I am experimenting with my writing style <3

CW: smut, handjob (Aventurine receiving), dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), feelings of inadequacy, hurt/very little comfort, crying, mentions of death, at some points this seems like dubcon because Aventurine speaks of feeling “dread”, but it’s NEVER intended to be read as him not wanting to receive touch from reader, it is meant to convey how little he thinks he deserves this. The smut is soft and gentle, but Aventurine’s internal thoughts definitely are not <3

Lmk if there’s anything else I should warn about !!

18+, minors will be blocked <3

Your touch is so kind. Soft and gentle, as if he is made of the finest porcelain, as if he is a fragile flower, as if he is delicate. It is cruel, he thinks, that he has made you think he is any less than a monster. It is cruel that he hasn’t pushed you away, when he knows he will devour you. It has become part of his nature.

But how can he push you away when you are so persistent? How can he push you away when you roll with his punches, when you go along with each and every one of his pushes and pulls? It is hard to keep you out when you insistently pry your way into what’s left of his soul, when you gaze upon the rotten corpse that he is and still claim him to be beautiful. He thinks you must be blind at best and naive at worst.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper reverently, and though Aventurine knows his body is, he also knows that is not the part of him you’re referring to. Not when your hand rests on his chest, above the empty cavern where his heart is meant to be.

You kiss his neck and he shivers. There’s a pit in his stomach, knotting his insides with dread.

He should tell you to stop, should warn you that he’s deceiving you, that he’s not the person you think he is. Should show you that he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, that he is a bad omen. But he can’t bring himself to. Not when being with you feels so good, not when he’s self-indulgent to a fault, and he can’t help himself with you. He is the worst mistake you could ever make, in part because he can’t even stop from letting you continue to make it.

His hands rest on the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair. It is unfair how good your touch feels, his back arching just from mere caresses upon his skin. You play him like he’s an instrument you’ve practiced for years, despite never having fucked him before. He digs his heels into your back as your hand wraps around his dick, and he whines into your shoulder when you lovingly stroke it.

“I love you,” you murmur as he pulls on your hair, as his nails dig into your skin, and he wants to cry. He will destroy you from the inside out, he knows, or maybe he will kill you before he gets the chance to. He can never keep the things he loves alive.

Your lips kiss his skin, and he moans brokenly as your thumb glides over the head of his cock, pushing down on the tip. His hips rock up to meet your hand, and he feels ashamed of how blatantly he allows himself to enjoy you, how blatantly he allows himself to use you. You deserve so much better, but you are the best thing that he has ever managed to get his bloodstained hands on, and so he can’t help himself. He wants you to remain unaware of how much better you could do. He wants you to stubbornly remain by his side even when he makes it hard for you to do so. He wants to bare every part of his being to you so you can see how little worth he is to you. He wants you to run from him before it’s too late.

But part of him knows he already has shown you himself, that you’ve seen who he is and you still love him. You must be stupid.

“Use me,” he begs you, wishing you’d do something with him to alleviate the guilt he feels, so it would at least be mutual. His hands cling to you, and he whimpers pathetically when you lean back to look down at him. “Use me, please. Please…”

And your eyes are so kind. Your eyes are so sweet and soft and human, and everything he is not.

“Shh,” you hush him, tenderly pressing a kiss to his lips. He sobs, feeling embarrassing tears fill his eyes as you press closer to him, the touch so caring and innocent yet so lewd as your hand tugs at him. “Just let me make you feel good, okay?”

And you do. You always keep true to your words, unlike him. It’s barely a minute later that his breath hitches and he keens, nearly wailing into your neck as he comes undone under your too loving hands. It’s obscene, and he feels filthy as his semen paints your hand and splatters on his lower stomach. He has soiled your perfect skin, has dirtied your perfect body. He hopes you will let go of him and wash yourself up, then leave him here, broken on the bed in the mess he’s created. That you will leave him to pick up the pieces of himself he has left. He is undeserving of you.

And yet he only feels your love swaddle him when his body relaxes, adoring praises and sweet words tumbling from your perfect lips as your perfect hands gently stroke his body, soothing him as if he is deserving. Your perfect body presses closer to him, no doubt getting his mess on your perfect abdomen as you almost lay yourself flat on him. You pepper perfect kisses all over his face, and he realises belatedly he’s crying. For the first time in ten years. Fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and he doesn’t know for what reason.

But you seem like you do know. You look so understanding, wiping his tears with an achingly kind, perhaps slightly sad smile, and you don’t ask him why.

“I’ve got you now, it’s okay,” you say instead. And you do, because you always keep true to your word.

And he is selfish, because he doesn’t stop you. He lets you clean him up, lets you kiss his tears away, lets you take care of him. Lets you climb into bed with him afterwards, unaware that you have brought the monster under your bed up into your loving arms. He hasn’t felt so much love since he was nine.

And he is selfish, because even though he can already feel his claws dig into your flesh as he holds you in return, he cannot bring himself to pull away. He can only hope he won’t dig in his heels when you eventually see reason and try to leave. He can only hope you will have the time to get away before he kills you.

---------------------------------------------------------

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[nottodayupstarts]

Azula in Fandom

I really did love Azula. She's one of the most fascinating characters in ATLA: brilliant, terrifying, powerful, tragic, and deeply flawed. I loved that the show let her be complicated without ever pretending she wasn’t dangerous.

And I still love her, but honestly, some parts of the fandom have made it harder. Watching people erase her harm, excuse everything she did, or attack others for acknowledging her complexity doesn’t make her look better, it just makes real conversations about her impossible. Azula was compelling because she was broken, cruel, vulnerable, and human all at once.

Flattening her into a untouchable girlboss or a misunderstood victim that just wanted the best doesn't honor that story, it kinda cheapens it.

I’m still rooting for her character, and I always will be. But if I'm honest, it feels like my love for her has faded a little, not because of who she is, but because of how some of her fans behave (NOT ALL FANS, by no means all fans, but a loud enough *few* who excuse abuse, downplay harm, and treat disagreements about her online like I just killed their puppy in front of their eyes).

It's just kinda sad seeing something I cared about get twisted into something uglier  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[xinganhao]

this milestone notification hit while i was in the middle of hiatus (which i am still kind of in! lol), so i'm a couple of days late ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ but, once again: thank you so much for enjoying my work! whether it's a like, a kind message in my inbox, a reblog/etc., it has meant so much 🫶🏻 i see and appreciate all of it, even if i may not be able to respond to everyone!

as i slowly but surely crawl my way back here, i do want to know:

1️⃣ do we prefer to see more individual member content/ot13 content? i've been slugging thru my series work (i.e. svtflix, burner acc.s), most of which are really individual members. i have long-term plans of one series per member (similar to not for sale and catch you when i can), but i want to know if in the nearer future there's any preference. :") i intend to balance them to the best of my ability; this is more of a pulse check than anything~

if you want to explain why you've voted for either, my dms and inbox are very much open. :) speaking of being open—

2️⃣ opening smau and text imagine requests for the next week or so! i'm in need of some inspiration to get back into the groove of things, so throw your member/ot13 thoughts my way. 🌟 the status of this may change according to how many asks i get, so please keep an eye on my pinned. ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ usual disclaimers apply: i reserve the right to accept/deny a request, please be patient, etc.

feel free to check my frequently asked questions for requests that are okay, my favorite tropes, etc.!

once again, thank you sooo much for being here ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- i don't think i'm entirely back yet (semi-ia is probably the best way to put it), but i am around. i hope you're happier than me today and, as always: don't be a stranger!

‹𝟹 kae (@studioeisa)

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

hey wouldn't it be fun to give Hunter a bunch of Grimwalker things that no one but Belos knew about and everyone assumes is just Belos being cruel until they try something different and then it turns out it was actually necessary for Hunter's wellbeing?

so like one day Hunter mentions never having ice-scream or cake or really any other type of dessert. and everyone's like "that's so sad we have to get him ice-scream right away." but then Hunter spends the next couple hours being violently ill and it turns out Grimwalkers can't handle processed sugar

or he was never allowed to go to the healers when he was injured and he always had to stitch himself up (or Belos would do it sometimes if it was bad enough). and everyone's completely horrified because that's terrible and evil and what could the point of that be except to make Hunter go through more pain? and then someday he breaks a leg or something and they take him to the healers and it just. doesn't work. nothing happens. and it turns out healing magic is completely ineffective on Grimwalkers

anyway I think it would be fun to make the line between what was care and what was abuse a little blurry every now and again

[tricksterlatte]

Since you guys liked the Phantom Thieves studying English excerpt, I thought I’d share these second aquarium date snippets from the same fanfic WIP, starring post-canon Akechi and Akira

(Continuing my tradition of sharing the comedic snippets from my angst WIP)

[vaguely-concerned]

ingellvar must have so many strange off-putting little personal habits in their day to day life that they don't even realize come across as weird, especially if they haven't ever dated outside of the watchers much. in rye's specific case I think lucanis has a capacity for such immaculate 'sure my life is already so fucking weird this might as well happen' energy that I believe he'd be able to roll with the punches admirably given the time, but it really would be a situation like

(what was going on there was that rook was placing down some experimental wards, by the way, it's what he does to calm down before bed and if he wakes during the night. what with the necropolis itself being a liminal space of lf sorts on a cosmic scale, watchers take the additional liminal space between wakefulness and dreaming extremely seriously b/c they know there are things drifting through that would just love to get their foot/tentacle/conceptual spores in that particular half-ajar door that should not be allowed inside. or outside, I suppose, depending on your point of view. rook and lucanis are also experimenting with whether solid wards can help any with lucanis' weird post-spite dreams even if they can't do anything for the more mundane ptsd ones. third reason because in my worldstate they still live in the lighthouse after the game: unless gently dissuaded wisps will sometimes drift by while you're asleep and hover over your face curiously as they sense your mind doing stuff in the fade, and no one likes waking up on an eldritch sneeze with a well-meaning yet terrified wisp zooming about the room. important watcher novice 101 lessons.

blessed mental image of rye cross-legged on the floor, barefoot in his PJs with his hair down and no makeup, peaceably tracing out elaborate geometric shapes that somehow make your eyes scared when you look at them* while lucanis sits on the bed and reads out loud to both him and spite and occasionally sneaks some carnal looks at rook's fully unleashed curly hair and bare wrists & throat...... okay I think I've found the thing that will help me through the day thank you for coming on this journey with me)

*what is the paint he's using made out of and why is it such a deeply unsettling colour? don't worry about it! :) patented mostly well-meaning yet also borderline condescending mortalitasi hand wave of 'don't worry your sweet little non-nevarran head about it we both know you don't actually want to know. do not ask questions lest you learn the answers, especially if you're going to be annoying at me and freak out about it. let the things man was not meant to know stay unknown. unknown by you I mean I'm built different'

[rebornofstars]

hello!! just wondering whether anyone would be interested in a September-based art & writing event focussed on celebrating the female characters in the LU fandom?

i've been thinking about trying to organise something like this for a few months now, but i'm finally speaking up, because this morning i had an idea...

we could call it:

✨Sepfember✨

anyway, if you'd be interested in a september event, let me know!

[free-for-all-fics]

Ryan Gosling/Beach Ken and maybe Simu Liu/Tourist Ken prompts. I don’t know, maybe some of these can be interchangeable between which Ken you want. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these and I’d love to read it! 💕

1. Something similar to that scene in Toy Story 3: You’re a doll that’s one of Barbie’s friends. You’re not named Barbie, but have your own name. You don’t have a Dreamhouse like the Barbies but your place is cozy enough and you like it, having given it your own personal touch. You’ve had an unrequited love for Beach Ken but can’t compete with how perfect Stereotypical Barbie is. Besides, Ken is usually stuck to her side like glue. Wherever she goes, he goes. So you keep your feelings to yourself. You’re sure Ken only sees you as a friend anyway. But while Barbie is still in the real world, you’re horrified at Ken brainwashing all your friends as he turns Barbieland into Kendom.

With Barbie gone, he turns his sights towards you and keeps you for himself, wanting to make you either his bride-wife or long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend. The choice is yours, but you’re not leaving his sight until you decide. He keeps you confined in Barbie’s former bedroom of his now Mojo Dojo Casa House and tries to brainwash you too, but it doesn’t work because you already love him. You feel heartbroken and betrayed that he’d try to turn you into his mindless piece of arm candy or servant like he’s done to the other Barbies. You used to daydream about him finally noticing you and returning your feelings, about being wrapped up in his arms and kissed silly, but he’s becoming someone you don’t recognize and it scares you. You often lie awake while he sleeps soundly next to you in Barbie’s former bed with his arm either over your waist or behind your head. After who knows how long under house arrest, you break down and have a panic attack.

“I can’t take it here, Ken! I’ve always wanted to live together but not like this! You were wrong about me, about what I wanted. I do want to be with you, Ken, I do! Just please take me away from this, take me away!”

Your crying and hyperventilating makes him feel things he’s never experienced before. What is this pain in his chest? Is this…remorse? Guilt? He doesn’t like these feelings and wants them to go away. He wants to see you smile again. When was the last time you smiled? He’s horrified when he realizes he can’t remember. He holds you and caresses your hair as you sob, even as you try to struggle out from his grip and push him away or beat your hands on his chest in frustration. He’s begging you to breathe and cease your tears. As he tries to talk you down from your panic attack, he realizes what a mistake he’s made. Let him earn your forgiveness. Give him a chance to fix this. What can he do? Please, just tell him what to do to make it all better, to make you happy. All he’s wanted is love, he’s just been too foolish and focused on Barbie to see you were always there, already giving it to him. He was seeing things through tunnel vision but he can see more clearly now.

2. Write something for the Ken of your choosing with the Toy Story 3 quote, “She’s a Barbie doll, Ken, there’s a hundred million just like her!”

“Not to me there’s not.”

3. You’re a mermaid doll that Ken falls in love with. While he’s a land walker and you’re a sea princess, you make it work. He’s often carried you around bridal style to different places he wants you to see and lets you stay in his large swimming pool at his house or in the bathtub so you can spend more time together. Most often you meet at the beach during the day, but sometimes you’ve met on the beach at night after everyone else has gone to bed. You’ve spent many nights together around a nice campfire. Ken always tries to show off and impress you, and you’ve splashed him with your tail sometimes to be playful and flirty. You’ve shared kisses while going for swims together, gone on treasure hunts, etc.

4. You’re a human that Ken starts dating after the Kendom Versus Barbieland debacle. You never thought he was crazy unlike some other humans he’s met. You help him acclimate to the real world and stay by his side as he works to discover who he really is. He’s so in love with you he’s even taken you to Barbieland, regardless of what the suits at Mattel might have had to say about yet another human crossing over. What Ken was not expecting or in any way prepared for, however, was you getting sick. (Whether you’re sick while in Barbieland or the real world is up to you.) He’s unfamiliar with things like fever, headache, cough, etc. Nobody truly gets sick in Barbieland ever. They’re always cured within seconds. But this is the first time he’s seeing the full extent of sick symptoms on a human and it’s even more concerning since it’s all happening to you, the woman he loves.

He genuinely thinks you’re dying. He’s never witnessed death before and doesn’t really know what it is, but as beautiful as you are he can’t help but think you look like death itself and it terrifies him. Is it possible to die even in Barbieland? He doesn’t want to think about it. You ask him not to leave your side, but he thinks he has no other choice than to fetch Doctor Barbie. You do your best to calm him down as he begs you to hang on and wait for him until he returns. Don’t fall asleep just yet, he’s heard falling asleep can cause humans to slip into something called a coma. He’s not sure what that is either but it sounds really bad. Don’t succumb to your sickness and leave him while he’s gone. Please don’t slip away, he’ll be back with the doctor soon, he promises. He holds your hand. He kisses your forehead while he presses a cold cloth to it. Doctor Barbie uses everything at her disposal to make you feel better and Ken follows her instructions to a T. You assure Ken you’ll be fine, you just need medicine and lots of rest. Despite your many assurances, he’s still determined to watch over you 24/7 until you’re fully recovered.

5. You’re a doll and Ken dates you after working on discovering himself. What you’re not prepared for is the unexpected seasonal change in Barbieland as it turns to winter and becomes incredibly cold. It’s almost always summer here in Barbieland, but the Winter and Christmas Holiday Barbies are visiting and have brought the snow and cold with them. It’s fun for a while; You and the other Kens and Barbies experience snow for the first time and are shown how to make snow angels, snowmen, and have snowball fights.

But the cold eventually soaks through your clothes and seeps into your bones, becoming too much. So you and Ken retreat back inside and get the fireplace going. After you get changed out of your wet clothes, Ken wraps you in his mink fur coat when he realizes you’re still shivering. You’re so used to the summer sunshine weather in Barbieland that chilly winter is new for both of you, but maybe it’s not so bad if it means you and Ken can snuggle up together under the warmth of his coat and the many soft blankets while the fire in the fireplace burns. There was a special drink the Holiday Barbies gifted you too. Hot chocolate or cocoa you think it’s called?

6. You’re a Haunted Beauty Barbie like the Mistress of the Manor, Ghost Barbie, Vampire Barbie, or Zombie Barbie. Everyone else in Barbieland is either low-key or high-key scared of you and steers clear. Whenever you leave your haunted mansion or whatever you live in, none of the Barbies or Kens interact with you much if they can help it. They think you’ll put a curse on them or suck their blood or something, even though you’re actually harmless and really nice. It’s near impossible for you to make friends because of your off-putting appearance. You know you’re kinda scary looking with your gothic or Halloween style, but you don’t want to change it to suit their preference because you believe it’d be disingenuous to who you are. You’re actually kind of shy and introverted, usually sticking to reading books or making art. Beach Ken is the first person brave enough to approach you and talk to you like you’re normal. He’s nice to you and invites you to hang out with him, wanting to be your friend. Over time, you share your likes and interests with each other and your friendship becomes a romance.

Ken is happy to learn he was right about you and that you’re actually a very sweet person underneath your scary exterior. You introduce the other Kens and Barbies to things like Halloween and show them it doesn’t have to be scary, it can be cute and fun too! With things like pumpkin carving, dressing up, arts and crafts, candy, etc. One time you gave Ken a goth or Halloween makeover when he asked, since he was still trying to discover his identity at the time. He wasn’t sure if he identified with the goth or Halloween aesthetic, but he appreciated you taking the time to make him over. He really thought this new look was fun to try out! He wouldn’t mind if you gave him more makeovers in the future. You really are a pastel and goth couple and it’s adorable.

7. What if it was Ken who started having an existential crisis and dark thoughts in Barbieland because the human in the real world who was playing with his doll needed his help? He’s expecting a child, a young girl or boy with childhood trouble but is surprised when he instead realizes it’s you, an adult who’s Going Through It. When you finally meet him face to face, you can’t believe that he’s real, that he’s standing in front of you in the flesh. But only a Ken would probably wear outfits like what he has on now. It suits him though. You played with his Ken doll to escape reality for a bit and take a break from the stresses of being an adult, but it seems you’ve inadvertently poured your feelings onto him and they have seeped into his psyche. He’s experiencing new things like his eyes are leaking, he has feelings that there’s danger but no threat is in sight. What are these things and what do they mean? Crying? Anxiety? Seems like you don’t just need his help, he also needs yours.

While he’s in the real world, you take him shopping for some normal clothes, but he turns it into a modeling montage. You try to demonstrate how to eat and drink real food, but watching him reminds you of the dinner scene from Beauty and the Beast, etc. Shenanigans and Hijinks ensue and you fall in love along the way. After you show him your world, he takes you to his and gives you a grand tour of Barbieland (When Tourist Ken tries to cut in and give you the tour himself, your Ken tells him to back all the way off! You’re his girlfriend and he’s got this!) Your eyes light up in amazement much like how his did when he entered your world.

8. You’re either an equestrian in the real world or a Cowgirl Barbie with a ranch called Barbie’s Horse Adventures. Either way, you have pet horses and lots of experience working with them. You surprise Ken by bringing over 2 horses so you and he can go horseback riding. You teach him how to ride and he’s so ecstatic yet nervous because he wants to do it right. He wants the horses to like him. He feeds them treats and laughs at the feeling of their lips and big teeth against his hand. He pets their necks and helps you look after them. You go horseback riding either through beautiful forested trails or along the beach. It’s awfully romantic and Ken can’t help but lean forward in his saddle to kiss you while your horses are walking side by side. He apologizes afterwards, but you tell him you liked it. Your mutual love for horses is the starting point of a beautiful romance. He can’t let you do all the labor by yourself! He loves helping you around the ranch as a….What’s the word again? Groom? Are you married now!? Is he your groom-husband and you his bride-wife??

When your horse gets spooked and rears up on its hind legs and throws you off, Ken is immediately off his own horse and coming to your rescue. Are you ok?? Are you hurt? Let him look you over please. He’s not a doctor but he has some First Aid supplies in his saddle bag. When one of your mares gets pregnant, he’s so excited and wants to name the foal when they arrive. Both of you are by the mare’s side while she’s in labor and give her everything she needs. But for some reason, she’s suddenly not looking so well. You don't know what's wrong. It was moving along, then it just stopped.

“But her water broke, right?” Ken asks, petting your mare’s neck to comfort her.

“About ten minutes ago.”

“I think she's distracted.”

“What?”

“By that colt over there. She keeps eyeing him like she'd prefer a little privacy.” Ken is already back up on his feet, urging the colt away. “Shoo! Get out of here! Give poor mama horse a break!” He comes back to your mare’s side and resumes comforting her. “There, that's better, huh? Now you can push your little baby out with some dignity.”

“She's doing it. She's pushing. Yeah. Here we go. That's my good girl. Ok, here it comes. Well done, [horse’s name]! It's a girl/boy, just like we were hoping for, Ken! Look how cute she/he is. She's/He’s so sweet. Welcome to the world, little one. What do you want to name her/him?”

“I have to admit, I'm amazed how great you were with [mare’s name],” you later commend Ken while you’re both watching her with her new foal.

“What can I say? We totally bonded.”

Ken is so proud and encouraging when the foal tries to stand up on its long gangly legs and walk for the first hours of its life. That’s his horse, and he loves them already. They’re gonna grow big and strong under his care and he’s gonna train and ride them once they’re big enough. He’s a proud Horse Dad!

9. You’re a child doll in Barbieland, so you never age or grow up. You’re perpetually young both mentally and physically. Barbie and Ken are either like your big brother and sister or your adoptive parents. Tourist Ken is like the Cool Uncle who tries to get you to like him more than Beach Ken by bribing you with ice cream for breakfast and other fun things behind Beach Ken’s back. Beach Ken and Stereotypical Barbie are great at raising you like a sister or daughter, but there’s not really much of you to raise. You’ve never grown bigger or changed. Until the human in the real world who’s playing with you starts experiencing puberty and having the weird thoughts and feelings that go along with it.

You become self-aware that you’re not growing and have the same confusing thoughts and feelings. You’re full of questions and become self-conscious about your body. You’ve lived here for years, so why aren’t you an adult yet like most of the other Barbies and Kens? You never really thought about it before, but you want to grow up. When Barbie moves to the real world and becomes human, you go with her. When you experience growth for the first time, you’re both excited and scared as your body and personality go through constant changes. When you visit Barbieland, you’re so excited to show all the other Barbies and Kens how you’ve grown taller and updated your wardrobe, among other things.

10. You’re Stereotypical Barbie’s twin sister but you’re a Plain Jane Barbie. You’re like the Mary Bennet to her Elizabeth Bennet. You’re not conventionally pretty, you have hobbies but aren’t exactly talented at them, your social skills are weak and your flirting game/love life are nonexistent. Your sister is a girly girl and you’re a tomboy. In the real world, Mattel said something about sisters who are total opposites being more marketable and selling more toys. You have a huge crush on Beach Ken, maybe you even love him, but he’s been pining for your sister for so long you doubt he’s ever really noticed you. If there’s one thing you are good at, it’s being invisible.

He’s always tried to impress Barbie or keep her attention on him. You’re so clumsy and socially awkward in comparison to your perfect and popular sister, you can’t count the number of times you’ve fallen flat on your face or otherwise embarrassed yourself in front of the other Barbies and Kens when you’ve tried to fit in or stand out in a good way. Your attempts to embody your sister have all failed and your friend group is small or nonexistent in contrast to her large social circle. But you’re still worried about her when her feet become flat and she keeps falling over herself. You try to console her when she gets cellulite and thoughts of death. She’s always been there for you when you needed her emotional support, especially when you finally confided in her that you have a crush on someone. You weren’t brave enough to tell her who it is, but she was supportive and encouraged you to go for it anyway. She gives great pep talks, so now you’ll do the same for her.

When Ken tries to turn Barbieland into Kendom and kicks Barbie out of her Dreamhouse, he lets you stay. You’re torn between them and don’t know what to do. You’re stuck in the middle of a conflict between the man you love and the sister you love, and you don’t want to choose one side over the other. The situation is made even more uncomfortable when Ken realizes his patriarchal brainwashing didn’t work on you like it did the other Barbies. You didn’t go with him and your sister to the real world, so he eventually puts together that your immunity must be because you already love him. This is not how you wanted him to find out about your feelings, but there’s no going back now. Your secret is out in the open. What happens next?

11. You’re a doll and the kid who was playing with you leaves you unattended and at the mercy of their younger sibling(s). In the real world, the little kids color your hair a bright unnatural color with markers and/or cut it in a choppy, messy style. They scribble on your skin/face and mess with your clothes. So in Barbieland, your appearance reflects that. When Ken (and maybe Stereotypical Barbie) see what’s happened to you and what a mess you are, they come to your rescue and you’re given a luxurious makeover. Your boyfriend (and bestie Barbie) do your hair, makeup, wardrobe, etc. They give you lots of personal attention as they fix you up and get you back to your normal, beautiful self in no time.

[dellamortte]

umm so i wrote a little something inspired by the idea of my rook keeping a journal!! i wanted to write what would be her last entry before the events of tearstone island…. also contains a slight confession about her feelings towards Lucanis… it’s nothing special and it’s quite short but i wanted to post it anyway…. 🥺👉👈

Rook’s Journal Entry —

Elgar’nan has made his move. I should’ve seen this coming, I should’ve known something was wrong. But I don’t think I ever could’ve guessed that he would literally move the moon. Now we only have a few hours before he finishes the dagger.

The team is frightened, we were not prepared for this. They look to me for guidance, to give them strength. But I can’t let them see that I’m afraid too. I can’t let them know that I—[The rest of sentence is scribbled out.] I trust them all and I know we’ll be ready when the time comes. We will make it through.

I spoke to Varric and he gave me some reassurance, but I can’t help but feel like he should take the lead on this one. He should be there with us, leading us like he was supposed to. But he’s still too injured. I worry about him, it’s been so long and his wound still hasn’t healed. He’s been there for me for so long and I don’t know what I would do without him.

So I’ll let him rest. He believes in me. I won’t let him down. Like he said, just fight one battle at a time.

But this battle will be the toughest we’ve faced yet. We might not all make it back. [The previous line is crossed out but still eligible to read.] No, can’t think like that. We’re going to be okay. We can do this. I will fight, to keep everyone safe. To stop the gods and save all of Thedas. No pressure.

Lucanis… I’ve never seen him so worried. I did my best to reassure him but I don’t think it was enough. I have complete faith in him, I know he won’t miss this time. He’s come so far since Weisshaupt. He’s so much stronger and braver than he realises. I wish I could let him know how much I trust him. I wish I could tell him that I— [More words have been scribbled out.]

I did try. But he stopped me before I could say it. I should’ve… No, maybe it was for the best. He already has enough to worry about.

I just wanted to let him know… in case something happens. If one of us… No. I can’t even think about it.

I’ll just have to make sure we win this fight. Finally put an end to it all and bring everyone home.

Then we can be together. Then I can finally tell him that I lo—[The words have been lost, fresh teardrops have made the ink run.]

The Inquisitor taught me an Elven word at our last meeting. Ma Vhenan. She told me it means ‘my heart’. I thought of Lucanis the second I heard it.

He means more to me than I could ever put into words. But that… it comes close enough. He is my heart. My everything.

I can only hope that he feels the same.

[An addition has been added to the page recently, written in Lucanis’ handwriting.]

I do.

I’ll find you, Rook. I swear.

[non-un-topo]

*chef's kiss*

[dungeonsynths]

another season one jayvik plotbunny that i won't write that's up for grabs, i guess: during the timeskip (before viktor starts seriously deteriorating), they get invited to some ritzy academy party or council-sponsored networking event at the beach, or even better, at the luxurious rooftop swimming pool of some fancy hotel. viktor is self-conscious but won't admit it, and also won't admit he never learned how to swim due to his bad leg and all the water in the undercity being mildly toxic when soaked in for too long. jayce ends up convincing him to get in the water, even with his tank top on, and viktor enjoys himself a surprising amount.

he also gets very sunburned.

[starry-sophrosyne]

staring at my writings rn and I feel genuinely awful. i think it's mainly/entirely in part to it being that time of the month, but STILL; it's not bringing me any satisfaction to write like it normally does, nor do i have any genuine motivation to continue writing my drafts. i can still force myself to work on my drabbles because i still inherently want to, deep down in my soul - that's how much i love writing - and i can still write words and detailed phrases that are probably similar to how i write normally; descriptions that others will support and admire like they always have, but I just don't like them all that much. They're not bad, it's just, they're not written with any passion behind it.

I get it can't be helped, but I really don't want to put my writings down, because I'm scared. I'm scared that this exhaustion will be permanent, that I'll put these drafts aside and then never touch them again. I'm scared that this weariness, that I have put back into my bones over and over again, will not come out this time. I'm not crazy right? This isn't a dumb worry to have, is it? This is an actual fear for me, not just for my blog writings, but for all of my future writings too. I'm genuinely scared of burning out and I don't want to be.

No matter what, I think I genuinely have to stop writing. Wasting hours of my life writing stuff while feeling like an empty shell, while it provides me no joy doing so, is almost as horrible of an idea to me as never writing again is. So i'll do it; In order for me to be actually happy with anything I produce again, I'll put the pen down and pray my spark comes back to me, but man, i'm praying to whatever fucking gods there are out there, please don't let me lose the one thing I have left. Even this was a struggle to write.

[littlefankingdom]

Fanfic Friday

"Through death and time" Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd Additional Tags: Time Travel, Father-Son Relationship, Babies, Fluff and Angst, Post-Under the Red Hood Arc, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse Summary: After a mission that takes Batman and Nightwing back twenty years in the past, they end up with time to kill. Bruce does what he does best: he finds a kid. Luckily this one is already his.

There's this genre of fanfics that are just "Bruce goes back in time and goes to hold one of his kids as babies" that makes me insane. This is like the third one I read where Bruce finds a baby Jason so he can hold him again, and it's always so fucking GOOD. I NEED MORE.