#sorry for possible future tag spam

[starryjkoo]

It’s really funny when people are like - but JK hung out with x person 10 times this year! - and it’s like, okay, and then he chose to spend the next 18 months, 547~ days with Jimin? 😭 You might really want to rethink that argument friend. JK had other options, other people he could have gone with, other programs he could have tried for, a later date he could have enlisted on, and yet he chose JM, and vice versa. They didn’t even have to enlist with anyone, they could have gone individually like everyone else in the group. No one was expecting them to enlist together. And this is also probably the furthest thing there is from company content or fanservice considering we’re not even going to be seeing them for the next 18 months and I doubt they’ll even talk about their time in the military. It’s just so silly. “JK and JM were never together this year!” buddy, they’re literally together RIGHT NOW 😭

[tspud-screenshots]

Mind Control Facility Cameras Part 3/3 + Bonus

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (YOU ARE HERE)

BONUS: I decided to check the camera feeds of the employees that had different numbers, that being the one on top of Employee 001, Both FIRED Employees, The glitched screen Employee, and Employee Pirate. Here are some of those screens:

For the employee on top of 001, The first FIRED employee starting left from the MCF doors, and the purple glitch Employee all show 432's desk. (I didn't get this FIRED employee number screen because I got the next ones instead. However since that screen is at a different place in the MCF, i didnt add it to avoid confusion.)

For the second FIRED employee, the one close to the door, it shows 434's desk.

And for Employee Pirate? ...427.

[touchme-teezme]

Last Pick.

PAIRING | collegeboy!mingi x fab!reader

TAGS | angst, smut, friends to lovers(?), p0rn with a plot with a cliffhanger (oopsie), lots of kissing, oral, reader was angry then h0rny…and then sad :( oh! and mingi’s lowkey a hoe

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors DNI!)

SONGS | Cherry Hill - Russ, That's why I love you - SiR & Sabrina Claudio & Do you like me? - Daniel Cesar

SUMMARY | you and mingi are best friends. he likes you, but you love him. one fight changes the trajectory of your friendship forever.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i didn't know if i wanted to write angst or smut... so here's both? a bonus fic to celebrate the hard (pun intended) launch of my blog! it’s a bit more dramatic than i’m used to but that’s what creative writing is for. i have a few other members in my drafts. i plan to update sometime this week. might just spam them idk. i've been in such a writing mojo lately; i think i just miss ateez haha. also if you’re new, english is not my first language so if i get some terminologies mixed up, sorry!! that's all, enjoy ya freaks.

inspired by a quote from ‘save me an orange’ by hayley grace. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

It was getting late, and you were growing tired.

Mentally tired. You were tired of hearing the same stories, the same kind of complaining, and most of all, tired of pathetically waiting on the sidelines. You’ve been avoiding the truth for so long that you didn’t notice it consumed you.

You weren’t Mingi’s type. He liked their personalities, bright, funny, and effortlessly interesting. Feminine, sexy and confident. Girls that could lead and had interesting hobbies. Compared to his colourful dating history, you felt like you weren’t anything particularly special.

You finally accepted that tonight, while drinking on your balcony as you listened to how his tinder dates this month went. At the mention of the second girl (whose name you already forgot), you were already dying inside.

Before you thought it wouldn’t get any worse, he went off topic and started talking about his future and what he actually wanted.

He blurted out that he should just marry you if he was still single at 35, declaring he had officially given up on the shrinking dating pool.

He looked at you with a mix of admiration and bliss in his eyes. That stupid, goddamn part of your brain convinced you it could happen. He acknowledged that small 0.0001% possibility of you and him ending up together, so there was actually a chance you could actually be with him.

But reality sunk in and drowned you.

Song Mingi would never love you.

That’s when the little glimmer of hope you’d carried throughout your friendship shattered. The shards had cut you and hurt bled out.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You sighed.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

Mingi didn’t know what to say at first, but at least a hundred responses came to his mind.

His face (which usually said whatever he was thinking for him) settled into a look that screamed Where did THAT come from? for him.

That was enough to discourage you altogether. You let silence grow between you two, quietly finishing your last sip with nothing but the sounds of midnight Seoul traffic beneath you.

You set the glass bottle on the table and rose from your chair. “I’m going to bed. You can hang out here or just leave or whatever.”

Mingi took a few seconds to process the shift in mood before he ran after you inside. He thought you two were having some decent conversations, but he got ahead of himself like he usually does.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

You paused and turned around slowly. You were trying to carefully pick out the right words from what you were feeling.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“I know, that’s why I came. You weren’t really replying to me and San said he hasn’t heard from you. I…I just wanted to see you.”

“Well, you saw me. You can go.” You shrugged.

Mingi furrowed his eyebrows. “If this is about what I said about marrying you, I wasn’t serious. I know you don’t believe in marriage and—“

You let out a wry scoff, cutting his weak explanation short. You could’ve been mean, throw him out, laugh it off and say you were kidding. But you couldn’t ignore that feeling in your chest anymore.

With eyes shut, you murmured, “I hate how you make me feel sometimes.” and when you opened your eyes, they were already watery.

Mingi's face fell. "Hey, c’mon, I didn't mean to upset you."

He approached you delicately, his large hands encasing yours with a gentle touch. If he were to pull you in for one of his bear hugs, you might explode.

You quickly stepped back, creating distance between as you refused his hands. “That’s all you do lately. You don’t even realise half of the shit you say and how much it hurts to hear.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was now growing very concerned. “I thought we were friends.”

“Do friends make each other feel like they’re the last pick of the litter?”

Mingi's eyes widened. "Last pick? Hey, what is going on with you?"

You laughed, but it was devoid of humour. "Let me break this down for you. All I have been hearing about these days are your dates, your perfect girls, how you have no connection with them so you’re going to die alone and yet you’re still choosing to sleep with the entire city. Then you throw out this ridiculous idea of how you want to settle down eventually, and when you’ve had your fun, you would marry me. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

He looked taken aback. “But… what I said, that was a joke and—“

"A joke?!” Your voice rose. "My feelings are a joke to you? Do you have any idea how long I've been…”

You stopped yourself, your mouth hanging slightly open as you realised there was no point. You had no business convincing a man to want you.

Still, the volume and hurt in your voice stunned him into silence despite you not finishing your sentence.

"You know what? Just get out." You seemed firm and dismissive, yet your heart was breaking. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with just being your friend if this is how it’s going to be until you… decide to settle. You have to go."

Mingi stood there, shock and confusion written all over his face. "You don't mean that. Please, we can talk about this.”

"No, Mingi. Just leave," you insisted, your voice cracking as you further widened the space between you, your hands held up in surrender as you walked away. "I'm done."

Yet another awkward silence grew between you. For a moment, Mingi didn’t move. He just watched you slowly walk towards your closed bedroom door disappointed.

Then, as if something snapped inside him. He finally realized what this was about.

You had feelings for him.

You didn’t say it out loud, but it made sense and Mingi felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He crossed the distance between you in two quick strides, desperate to reach you. His hand grabbed your shoulder first, turning you around.

“No, we’re talking about this.”

“I have nothing else to say to you. Go fuck someone new on tinder and just leave me out of it.”

“Dude, come on this is not how we talk to each other.” He was getting way too close to you.

“I couldn’t give two shits about how we talk to each other when you’ve pissed me off. So now, you have to go.”

“You almost said it a minute ago. Tell me why the girls bother you, why what I said bother you. I need to hear it.” He demanded.

Okay, that pissed you off more than you already were. Your chest heaved with the intensity of your emotions, the words bubbling up from a place you had kept buried for too long.

“This is stupid,” You whispered, shaking your head as your eyes continued watering as your gaze pierced into his. “You’re stupid, and you make me feel stupid.”

“Say what you wanted to, and I’ll go, and we never have to speak again.”

“So that’s it? You want an ego boost? You wanna feel on top?!” You practically yelled in his face.

“If that’ll make you be fucking honest for once, it might be worth it!”

“You’re so pretentious. I can’t believe I ever stuck around this long!”

“Why did you then, huh? Tell me exactly why you did!”

His yelling echoed in your apartment. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you stared at his lips.

Fuck it.

You closed the final few inches of distance between you in a swift motion. Gripping onto his shirt, you pulled him towards you forcefully, crashing your lips onto his with all the built-up anger and frustration pouring out.

Mingi was completely caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss. But the second you tried to pull away, he grabbed you back in. His hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you against him as the kiss deepened.

He lifted one of your legs up to the sides of his hip as he pushed you up against the bedroom door, cushioning the impact with his palm on the back of your head. The heat between your legs was growing and rubbing against his crotch was making it worse.

Your hands were exploring his chest, his shoulders, his face and his hair. You finally gasped for air, tilting your head up which invited him to kiss down your chin to your neck.

“I hate you, I fucking hate you.” I whispered out, shaking your head. Baffled at how good of a kisser he was, but with how he was spending his weekends, it wasn’t exactly a mystery.

He bent down to hoist you up by your thighs, effortlessly wrapping them around his waist. With one of your arms snaked around his neck for support, the other reached behind to open the door.

“Hate me later.” He muttered, kissing you again as he carried you into your dark bedroom.

He laid you down, sandwiching you between his chest and your mattress. You could feel him getting hard through the tin fabric of his Adidas shorts.

He smelled so fucking good. His natural scent mixed with a hint of the cologne you got for him for his birthday made your imagination go wild. Your hands reached the hem of his shirt like an animal instinct, tempted to rip it off him if he didn’t take it off in the next few seconds.

He pulled up and tugged his shirt over his head when he noticed your neediness. In the faint light of the opened door behind him, you could see the outline of his toned body.

Soft streetlights from outside the window above the bed frame gently illuminated his face that looked down at you like you were a full course meal and he was starving.

You have found Mingi handsome since the first day you met. Hell, even he knew he was handsome but something about how he looked at that moment sent chills all throughout your body.

When he leaned back down over you, you couldn’t resist reaching out to his face to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing back and forth near the beauty mark on his face.

He took your hand gently, kissing the back of it. Guiding your hand to his chest, he let you trace your fingertips down his body.

You almost forgot why you were angry.

“Do you want to do this?” He asked, still sounding a little breathless from the escalation.

You looked up from your hand on his lower abdomen, “If you leave now I might actually kill you.”

almost.

He took in bottom lip with his teeth to hide an excited smile, before leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss. This time, he moved slower, savouring whatever was left of that cherry lip balm you had on. “I wasn’t planning to.”

You smiled into the next kiss. Typically you’re not supposed to enjoy having the tongue of the person you were just screaming at in your mouth, but you wanted it there for as long as possible. In fact, you wanted that tongue everywhere on you.

Mingi on the other hand was trying really hard to focus but he could literally feel your nipples through the t-shirt you still had on.

Why the fuck was it even still on, he had no idea.

He was now thinking about how you did not have a bra on the entire time he was hanging out at your house, wondering how often it had been happening without him realising.

You grabbed onto the sides of his hips, and groaned in his mouth. He flipped over, positioning you so you were centred on his hard cock. You readjusted your legs to straddle him comfortably, your arms crossing behind his neck for support as he was sitting up.

His hands found their way to your ass, squeezing it in encouragement as you started bucking your hips against him. Your nails scratching up his shoulders as you started to wonder if the rumours about his dick size were true — all while the friction was driving him insane with arousal.

He helped you take your baggy t-shirt over your head. Delighted that you weren’t wearing a bra, he even fixed your hair once it was off, carefully flipping it behind your shoulders. He slid a hand to the small of your bare back, stealing a quick glance at your face.

You were the prettiest girl he knew. He had told you that a few times, but stopped once he realised you were never going to believe him. He’d be lying if he said he was never attracted to you, he just could never find the courage to cross that line. He was afraid of losing you more than anyone else he’d ever met.

“What?” You simply asked.

Doe eyed, topless, in his arms. Mingi could’ve sworn he had a wet dream about this once. His eyes dipped to your chest without saying a word, and he buried his face there. You rolled your eyes, but inside you were screaming with joy.

He caught your left nipple between his swollen lips while he massaged the other in his free hand. You squirmed when you felt him nibble, and twist you like a personal bop it. You even felt the fucker smirk against your skin at your reaction.

Your hand moved to roughly grip on the hair on the back of his head and your back arched towards him, feeling his tongue licking on your chest in a circular motion.

His eyes looked up at you, as he sucked on your breasts sloppily and kneading them with his hand, admiring his view and the feeling it came with.

You felt the tip of his nose brush up across your collarbone to return to your neck. You were getting so wet, it’s a miracle you managed to restrain yourself from taking those eager hands of his and shoving them in your shorts.

“I-I’m still mad…a-at you.” You managed to choke out, shuddering from the tingling feeling of him sucking on a sweet spot you didn’t know you had.

“I know.” He groaned.

Your hand reached down to the rock solid boner you had been grinding up against. He took a sharp hiss of breath at your touch.

He flipped you over again before you could’ve tried to slip off his pants. He guided you a little higher on the bed and then sat up to pull your shorts and your underwear down in one firm swift motion.

With his hands gently on your knees, he parted your legs. “Fuck…” He whispered.

As you lay on the bed, propped up on your elbows, you were a little embarrassed that he was seeing that part of you at first, but the way his eyes looked into yours and raked down your body made you grow a little more confident in your skin.

“Are you gonna just stare?” You nodded your head at him.

“I’m taking my time because you have no idea how often I’ve thought of doing this to you.”

“Slut.”

Mingi cracked into a grin, his tongue cheekily running across his top teeth as he shook his head and took your leg over his shoulder. He pushed your other knee further out when he started to lean down, coming closer to your dripping cunt.

Took his time, he did.

He cherished every kiss, and the way his nose slid up and down against you made your breathing shaky. Your hands fondled your own tits that were still a little damp from his licks from earlier.

When he started basically making out with your clit, your head threw back and you couldn’t hold back your breathy moans. Your hips started to rock into his tongue.

“Who’s the slut now?” You heard him coo from under you. He watched you with fox-like eyes, keeping a vigilant gaze while you stimulated yourself and something about it made it ten times hotter.

“S-still you��Ah, Mingi!” Your head dropped onto the bed.

Your clit was swollen, and his fingers invited themselves between your folds before entering. There’s no way you could’ve held in that loud moan, or mask the look of absolute pure pleasure that contorted your face.

Something about how you were unravelling at the curl of his finger inside you, with your heel dug in lot his back and the sound of you moaning his name over and over had him excited for what’s to come.

Figuratively and literally.

Mingi’s dick had never been harder.

You reached for his hand that was gripping on your thigh to keep your legs parted. Your mouth dropped open as your eyes squeezed shut to feel the electrifying sensation throughout your entire body. His fingers and the upper inner part of your thighs were coated in your release.

Holy shit, Mingi actually made you cum. And he sucked and licked every last of it as you were riding it out.

He sucked on your clit one last time, giving a quick kiss goodbye before crawling up your body to meet your face.

His hand was beside your face as he tilted his head to the side. Mingi hovered over you and though you felt a bit dizzy, you managed to mirror the grin on his face.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Furious.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

As you sat up slowly, he started to retreat to reel you in with your faces mere inches apart. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him down to get onto his back.

Who knows when’s the next time you would ever to be able to do this? In the back of your head, you knew this was a heat of a moment kind of thing, eventhough it made you a little sad, you wanted to kiss him again and again.

And he was more than willing to entertain it.

You could taste yourself off his lips. The dirtiness of it all made it hotter. His nails running up and down the side of your thigh as your chest pressed against his.

You moved down, planting little kisses down his gorgeous physique, you hands gripping on his sides as he watched. His hand reached out stroking the top of your head.

This had to be a dream.

You looked up when you reached the drawstring of the shorts he had on.

“Okay, okay, just be gentle,” He asked softly. “I’m a little… uh…”

With your teeth, you undid the little bow and tug his shorts down. Rumour confirmed: he was huge. Girthy, long, with cum already dripping down its sides from tip.

You thought you were seeing things wrongly so your hand reached out to hold it by the base and stroked up.

“Needy?” You teased.

Mingi’s brain electrocuted for a second, unsure if it was the tone or your hands. He flinched, “S-shit, baby, I’m really… hold on—“

You leaned forward, wrapping your hand comfortably around the base as you started to return the treatment he just gave you — tenfold. Mingi’s flustered face transformed into a look of pure satisfaction.

The way you licked, kissed, and sucked all over his shaft, he’d float if he could. The lewd noises you were making made him hiss, bitting in his lower lip as he watched from above.

“S-shit you’re doing so good.” He managed to say, leaning over to comb back your hair in his hands as you steadied your pace.

When his tip scratched the back of your throat, he was done for. You almost ended up choking on the cum that bursted out of his wet hard cock that pooled warm in your mouth, and swallowed.

The noise he made was unlike anything you’d ever heard in your decade long friendship, and it was the best he’d ever felt out of all his past experiences.

But that wasn’t why he had to take a breather. He realised how wrong he’d been doing you. Knowing how you felt about him, and how he’s been treating you made him wonder if he even deserved to see you this way.

He moved in behind you, gently guiding your face toward his for a soft, sweet kiss that made you smile. He trailed playful kisses along the side of your face as your hand caressed his. His large hands traced lightly over your waist.

If foreplay was this good already, he could only imagine how mind boggling actually fucking you would be. But he seemed to enjoy finally being able to shamelessly kiss you and touch you wherever he wanted more though.

You, however, had a different thought. The lines of your friendship were already blurred. Being with him like this had been a fantasy, but now you were stepping into uncharted territory, where everything about your relationship with him might change — if it hadn’t already.

That’s when reality hit, your smile fading. You needed a moment to pull back.

He started slowing down when he noticed you or your body weren’t really responding to him anymore.

It hit you like a cold splash of reality—his stories of conquests, the way he casually shared tales of his past flings, and how effortlessly he moved on from each one.

“Hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

In that moment, you realized you were just another number on his hit list, a fleeting moment in his game, and the weight of that truth settled heavily in your chest, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

Even with his own doubts, Mingi was still ready to take things further right then and there, but seeing that look — the one you make when you have a lot on your mind — he couldn’t bring himself to continue.

His hand reached out, caressing the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear in comfort, “We don’t have to, you know.”

You nodded, “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m thinking a lot right now.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He smiled at you, shaking his head in reassurance before closing in to kiss the side of your head.

He shifted on the bed, pulling you into an embrace and brought you close to him under the sheets.

You’ve shared this bed several times over the years, but never this intimately, without a pillow barrier or clothes on. This easily felt very new to both of you, yet still comfortable enough.

As you cuddled facing eachother, you turned to the ceiling as your thoughts began to swirl. You had settled the argument from earlier with your bodies, but the confusion in your heart still remained.

“Are you okay?” Mingi finally asked, concern in his eyes as you took your time to answer.

“Yeah, just…” The room felt colder, smaller, and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes as you turned to look at him. “I don’t want to be like the others. I don’t want us to end up being… nothing.”

“You’re not like the others,” Mingi said softly, turning to face you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m serious. I’m sorry for the stupid things I said. You are… you’re everything to me. You’re it, and—”

You’d heard it all before. You knew his usual pretty words for his pretty girls thanks to his stories but what you didn’t know was how he actually meant what he said this time.

“Look, Mingi…I just can’t do the whole friends-with-benefits thing. I can’t just stay friends after this. I need you all in if you’re going to be in my life.” Your voice trembled, and each word felt like a struggle. This boy had a grip on your heart that made the thought of losing him hurt. “If you can’t do that, you really need to go tomorrow morning, okay?”

He took a moment to let your words sink in, the silence stretching between you. Then, quietly, he leaned in and kissed you—a soft, gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his skin soothed you in the cool air as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

[if-it-lights-up-my-eyes]

so say goodnight !

(pt: so say goodnight!)

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hello hello!! we're @thegeekcollective (they/any pronouns collectively). welcome to our editing blog! (not really related to editblr, we're just having fun)

personal/about me strawpage here!

requests are open , albeit selectively! // requests masterlist !

our regular posts are tagged as #the collective's chatters (pt: #the collective's chatters) ; our edits are tagged as #the collective's arts and designs ! (pt: #the collective's arts and designs)

─ ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ─

rules:

(plain text: rules:)

please be polite when requesting! a please and thank you would be nice

please be patient! we have school and a whole lotta stuff irl

please only request 1-2 items at a time, depending on how busy we are; if you want to ask for more, wait until we're finished with at least one of them before doing so

please don't spam requests!

unless stated otherwise, feel free to use them anywhere! just credit us ✌️

unless stated otherwise or asked by the requester, feel free to tag as kin/me/id/etc. !! f/o is okay too

feel free to spam like/reblog !! we love that!!

─ ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ─

will do (pt: will do) icons, banners, layouts, userboxes, and graphics in general! it can be themed if you want it to be! moodboards are also okay, but only for the things in the whitelist!

thinking of (pt: thinking of) doing stimboards in the future! not 100% sure but it's on the table!

won't do (pt: won't do) animated graphics, at least for now! sorry!

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read below for more info !

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hatchetfield

whitelist:

(plain text: whitelist:)

parties are for losers

vocaloid in general (MVs, characters, etc.)

underworld office

witch hat atelier

milgram

project sekai

pokemon

epithet erased

smash legends

puyo puyo

american arcadia

five nights at freddy's

love bullet

more possibly tba!!

basically our priority list! it's in no particular order. you can request stuff outside of this though!

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non-hatchetfield starcanwrecked shows

selective:

(plain text: selective:)

ship layouts¹

dialtown/dayshift at freddy's

hoyoverse²

selective usually just means these are low priority unless requested by a moot! do check the footnotes below for some of these though

¹if it's a ship we really like we're likely to be more down for it

²more likely to do if it's related to honkai star rail

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coffin of andy and leyley

blacklist:

(plain text: blacklist:)

most live-action media

vizviepop's works (helluva boss/hazbin hotel)

south park

any nsfw media

mcyt (sorry about this one!! just not super familiar with the scene)

irl people (including celebrities. especially celebrities.)

more tba

we will not make edits for these! sorry!

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follow your own dni. we will block you if you make us feel uncomfortable.

before you follow:

(plain text: before you follow:)

pro-palestine (click here to help!)

pro-endogenic/non-traumagenic systems (incl. spiritual, willogenic, parogenic, etc.).

pro-good faith identities.

generally anti-radqueer/xenosatanist, but are okay with those who use transid alternatives or otherwise don't encourage harmful transitioning.

we don't actively participate in shipping discourse but are uncomfortable with incest/pedophilic ships (although we do not condone harassment, either; just block and move on).

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that's about it! thank you for reading ☆

[sunny-m00n]

WELCOME!

[WARNING: this idiot is really stupid sometimes, except them to just disappear sometimes]

[NOTICE: whoopsie forgot to get rid of the notice lol]

so more people are finding my account and I remembered I don’t have one of these sooooooo- here we go

howdy, I’m Sunny! I go by any pronouns you see fit to call me, I’m easy

I make quotes to old movies and random stuff I like often so if something looks wrong, probably a reference (like I made one in the last paragraph)

I love stuff like Deltarune/Undertale, Hollow Knight, The Stanley Parable, kinda FNaF???, and a few others!!

I am forgetful as heck and explain things in the worst ways possible sometimes so please be patient with me-

I have ideas for comics and want to make a game based off weirdcore in the future!

I try to reflect my speech patterns in text so stuff like “-“ is a abrupt cutoff or a certain tone and stuff like that

I make art! I am open to requests as long as it isn’t NSFW, i don’t like that stuff to much- and if you make any art and show me, that will make me super excited and I will save it and show my friends even if they don’t care- because i love seeing other people’s art

I poke fun at people I care about but I know people don’t like that, so I real it in a bit, but if someone I know irl comes or I slip up, I’m being mean in a loving way unless stated otherwise

my brain focus on things aggressively so if I’m interested in something, except a lot of rants, I also rant a lot and go on tangents a lot so be careful- current brain rot is deltarune (specifically the secret bosses [mostly posting spam because I know people like him more but I love both equally, they are besties])

I am ace!!! I don’t understand a lot of “dirty” stuff!! So if I accidentally say something like that I’m sorry I’m just dumb!

I make typos a lot and my autocorrect screws me over [like Queen] some times! So that’s a thing too! Especially when I’m excited!

I use caps for emphasis and to show strong emotions! So be careful if you don’t like that!

v tag meanings! For you kid! v

sunny screams - me blabbering on about stuff, or just showing it’s one of my posts

moony asks - answering asks! Feel free to send me some! Love talking with people unless I don’t! Then I’ll get to you eventually!

inverted reblogs - it’s exactly what it sounds like!

sunny’s art: stuff I drew! I am working on a name for a tag for art people make me! But it’s in the works!-

{NOTE: please have a profile picture that’s not the default or a human person! And please have a header or something! Otherwise you are being blocked! The bots come in swarms!}

{NOTE NOTE: if I find your art or something and I spam-liked your stuff, it’s because it makes my brain’s creative juices explode and I like to use that during art blocks- aka: I like your art style and like a bunch to help give me ideas :D}

-_Fun Stuff!_-

+ OC playlists +

+ OC ref sheets + [more coming soon!]

I think that’s it so without further ado, buh-bye, hope you enjoy your time in my little void!!!

[shishoku]

I'm sorry for the little spam of personal posts during these past days, but seeing that this blog is like a window into my past I would like to write down a few things so that I can find them in the future.

I feel SO DAMN EMOTIONAL right now. I find it very hard to explain. The past few days have been an emotional rollercoaster XD Seeing all these Kiryu videos again has made my heart warm in a way that I didn't think possible, I felt like that part of me died years ago and now it's back at full swing.

I missed it SO MUCH. I missed THEM so much, the happiness they bring to my life is so different to everything else... I'm probably at my best moment in many ways, but I was lacking that excitement and that warm fuzzy feeling in my stomach every time I see or hear them.

The last time I felt this way, they were everything to me. They were my life, my soul, my nourishment... Now I have a partner that is all I ever wanted and more, someone that I even made a Kiryu fan XD And somehow... I feel complete, and motivated to do things that I was avoiding before.

I feel guilty for "leaving" the fandom (although I never truly left, I found myself listening to their music every few months, but I lost track of releases and news). I should have never stayed away from this band, but I found it so hard to focus, to be into them. Now that so much time has passed, I can understand that the root of my biggest problems was all the same, I lost myself completely. I forgot who I was and responsibility took the best of me... it took my happiness, my weirdness, my spark, my health... I'm so thankful for my partner, because he slowly guided me back here, and he loves me just as I am, and he puts up with my silly fangirling... which is a lot honestly XD

I hope this time I don't stray away from this path, my path. I know that when I get to see those lives without Takemasa it will destroy me, and I will cry and I will want to leave again. Just like when I saw how Mahiro changed and it pushed me away for a few more months... but I feel for him, I don't judge him and I will continue to love him regardless. And for Negi... I just feel so happy that he has someone, I hope that he didn't have to go on this hiatus feeling guilty or scared, and also that fans understand that he is a human and not a toy or a virtual boyfriend... That line was always so clear to me, I want them to be happy in their private lives, I wish them to have the best partners, and children if that's what they want. As much as I can be an idiot and fangirl and make thirsty comments in the tags... they are human just like me, and I never forgot that.

And how did I end up writing about that? I have no idea. I've been laughing and crying and finding it hard to sleep with all these things going through my head that I'm a bit lost. All I'm hoping for is Mahiro to get better so that I can see him again someday. And maybe even Takemasa will make a comeback and I will sell my soul for a plane ticket to Japan XD I wouldn't want to miss seeing them live together again.

And now I have to save a whole lot of money for a trip to Japan XD AND spend a lot fo money on DVDs... that is the hardest part honestly because most of what I don't have is sold out. And there is no one sharing things anymore .__.

And even if there is no one to see my gifs and random posts anymore, I will do it because it makes me happy, because it completes me. That is all that matters.

[thermodynamiclawyer]

HAIII👋👋👋FELLOW PV ENJOYER I just wanna say I LOVE UR ART SM🥺🥺the way u draw pv is SOSOSOSOSO COOL N FUNKY I LOVE IT SMMM I usually don’t follow accounts that post purecacao not becauz i hate the ship it’s just not really my thing (also becauz my besties fav ancient is lily and we like making aus together a lot so it’s just easier 2 slam our faves together HSHSHD) but but BUT!! u are the EXEPCTION i just cannot resist ur pv art swagger. it is too pretty it is TOO MUCH OF. A LOT OF GOOD THINGS I DON’T WANNA MAKE A HUGE LIST RN BUTBUT ur gonna get spammed with notifs from me in a second becauz im going through ur pv tag and reblogging ur art of him. I actually saw ur art a lot earlier but. i didnt interact with it idk why I just didn’t feel like writing out a ton of tag compliment essays that day and then I just continued to put it off,, the wonders of having the disorder(s? I just recently got on meds for add but I’m not actually properly diagnosed yet) (also I’m autistic so disorders plural I think) I literallt have no other excuse for not interacting with ur art sooner other than. executive dysfunction sucks and also becauz I wasn’t sure if u were the type of real and TRUE!! purecacao shipper 2 still think lily is shippable or were one of the kinds of people to demonize lily insanely a lot. I had 2 unfollow some1 before becauz they made an extremely negative post about lily that made me kindof uncomfy but. seeing as u also ship hollylily(valid btw) I think it’s time I finally follow u becauz. I love ALL UR ART SM!!!! and I wanna eat it stuff it into my mouth like a chipmunk and run away with it forever it is so. ur style is soooososo unique but in such a visibly appealing way it boggles my MIND when people manage 2 make such unique art styles look SOSO GOOD especially since the only way I was able 2 make my art look okay was 2 make it look. less unique idk. no clue what spawned me 2 ramble on for this long idk I just. think ur art is cool okay. I see ur pv art and my eyes light up n go shiny like big sparkly anime eyes the way u draw is just so. sosososoososo. so. insert every compliment physically possible here I can’t possibly stress this enough just. art. pretty. and I’m envious that ur not even that much older than me I hope that. my improvement speeds up in the next 2-3 years it would b really cool if my art was just as cool as urs when I’m 19. idk. end of ask I’ve gone on for too long I’m sorry I hope u don’t mind. whatever this is ig

this means so much to me holy shit i’m so happy you like my art. and i’m very happy ur a lily enjoyer too!!! i totally agree with you, people demonize her way too much (probably because she “gets in the way” of ppls “gay ships” WHICH I HATE THAT EXCUSE). i still ship purelily, i like to imagine it as a relationship they had in the past. i’m not gonna ignore what they have in canon cuz it’s obvious they loved each other!!! (i’m not gonna freak out when i see other ships with the characters i like LOL). i still love lily and i want her to be happy, she has an incredible amount of depth to her character. she’s not heartless, but she’s not a shy damsel in distress like how other people depict her as well. she’s flawed and incredibly multidimensional, and i hope i have the opportunity to show that more often :D that makes me happy to hear you’re still open to other artists that ship different (normal) things, i hope you enjoy what i draw in the future as well!! i love the ancients a lot and i love other ancients-fans as well!!!

[rookflower]

Do you have a tag for your ocs? I love yours and would love to know more about them! (this is Oliveheart-worldbuilding, sorry for rebbloging so much haha)

the interest is super appreciated! but as it happens i've never actually posted much of my ocs before- however now that my blog is less design-centric than it was before, it's a possibility in future, and i'll tag anything i post about them from now with "wc ocs"! (also don't worry!! i'm perfectly fine with note spam, glad you like the blog :D)

[ekrixart]

@yallemagne Saw your tags and wanted to say that interpretations that incorporate the sexualities are totally fine! Thanks for being so interested in the game and thank you for asking, I appreciate it- Personally, when writing for Vince his queerness was apart of his character but just wasn't a defining aspect of his arc. I don't mind people shipping them or writing about them being romantic or exploring that at all, I think it's a cool thing that blooms from fandom and exploring those character dynamics are what I find most engaging making the games in the first place. Don't feel anxious to post your thoughts on our games, even in the off-chance its not something I would agree with it's still enlightening to hear peoples interpretations of the stories I work on.

The thing with queerbaiting I wanted to address [spoilers ahead] was specifically people feeling cheated out of an ending where they get together.

I've seen people say that they were expecting a possible ending where Rody and Vince become romantic partners and that it felt like the story was pushing in that direction with the implication that they were queerbaited. I think it's alright to feel upset by an ending of a story and a lot of the criticism towards Dead Plate has been things I think I should take into account with future projects- but to expect an ending where two queer characters ultimately get together purely because the story explores ideas of queerness with the characters doesn't mean you were queerbaited when you didn't get that ending.

Because any ending where Rody and Vince got together wouldn't be indicative of the story we were trying to write. If Rody and Vince were to be romantic with eachother by the end it would undo all of the build up and kind of erase the entire point of their dynamic- Rody's entire issue was that he only knew how to live for others while Vince's issue was that he only knew how to live for himself. Their dynamic allowed each of them to see things from the other perspective, giving Rody the chance to change and grow by living for himself and ultimately punishing Vince due to his inability to change despite wanting to.

But yes- To answer your concern, it's fine to explore different interpretations of the game. I don't want people to be scared off from expressing their feelings on a story because they're worried its not what the authors were going for- Stories arent some secret problem to be solved, theyre an ongoing discussion with the media and the audience. Even with what I've written here I still think if people disagree it's a net positive for them to explore that opinion. And also a discussion on Rodys internalized biphobia contributing to how he treats Vince and Manon sounds sick as hell

edit: I wrote this in like january and realized it was still in my drafts, sorry about that. Currently cleaning out all my asks/drafts so apologies if I start spamming for a bit

Since you confirmed Rody and Vince as both queer, I was wondering: did you write them with the idea of them being queer in your head, or was this an afterthought bc of the fan’s reactions?

Their sexualities were already a part of the characters back in February 2023 long before the game was developed and released. For example Rody being bisexual was always there as a fact as shown in the screenshot below which is from my private discord server where I store character infos/drafts:

Their sexualities weren't brought up in the game because it wasn't relevant to the story + they are characters who just happens to be queer and regardless of their sexuality the events in the game would still happen/remain the same, one doesn't effect the other. Instead of heavily highlighting it we wanted to treat it as another piece of fun fact since their sexualities doesn't define their character/personality.

We will never change or add anything to our characters or narratives just because of fan's reactions or suggestions, we only tell stories we want to tell!

[gilfodile]

hiii… would it be possible for you to tag spam posts in the future?

i'm sorry but you came to the wrong blog if you're expecting tagged spam. if it helps the xkit rewritten expansion lets you block specific posts so you can do that whenever i spam things👍

[sunsrefuge]

hey, I understand that you’re very excited about friend art, but would it be possible to tag the repeated reblogs with something that can be filtered? I mainly use tumblr mobile and it takes a long time to get past the spam reblogs :(

yeah i can do that in the future! i'm sorry about the spam reblogs

[magpigment]

hi i mean this genuinely in the nicest way possible but

^^^this?

thats considered spamming

you, even if unintentionally, are overtagging your posts they will show up, in everysingle tag that you have added, and it clogs up those tags people who are fans of the fandoms you've tagged? Will Block You, and maybe even report you, which will genuinely get you banned

so at best? you'll be blocked off from the communities you want to interact with at worst? you will be kicked off tumblr entirely

(sorry if this doesnt make any sense if u have any questions or need me to elaborate just lmk 👁️👁️)

oop sorry, i didn’t know! i honestly mostly tag like that for my own organization system (which definitely could use some work), but it genuinely isn’t the intention to spam or clog!

how would u recommend i tag in the future to avoid that? i didn’t mean to cause any issue

[onecalledkarma]

WITHOUT RULES THERE WOULD ONLY BE CHAOS.

General Admin Stuffs.

first, and foremost this blog is roleplay focused - sorry to those whom may be looking for a lovemail is this still even a thing? account for your favorite incredibly niche new mutant. I will not likely follow back personal accounts. secondly, I am open to interacting with MCU based accounts, but it cannot be understated that this is heavily versed within the canon of 616 - though admittedly there is inspiration from the fx series LEGION. I don't really foresee an adaption of this specific character done well in live action due to the nature of her origin. As such, I won't do much leg work in getting her to fit within, just - if there's an idea for where the X-Men may be, assume she's there.

my writer tag is askani, and whilst I am new to tumblr, twitter roleplay has been my base of operations for nearly a full decade now. feel free to add me on discord - askani #6174. my experience with X-Men comics dates back to over 15 years, and I am mostly familiar with the entire legacy. my pronouns are she/they, and I am over the age of 18.

Getting Down to Buisness.

General Etiquette applies, please don't rush for replies, don't spam tags, don't interact with posts that were not meant for you, that sort of idea. If it is unrealistic that your character has heard of Karma, or at least the Hatchi Tech, INC, please do not have your character somehow know everything. So, no god/information modding. TLDR? Don't be a dick. I work four days a week, with the days varying based on schedule, and otherwise have things going on outside of social media that could and possibly will keep me away and not interactive 24/7, I am not ignoring you. I may choose to tag thing not suitable for public audiences as NSFW, feel free to block the tag to avoid as I want no one to feel uncomfortable while scrolling my page.

I am a writer who prefers multi paragraph / novella to short form, I suppose I still could in smaller banter, but frankly there's more fun in building a story and describing the world than leaving things into the void. That being said, don't expect the best formatting in the world, I don't usually go here, and while I will learn in the future, it's not going to be perfect.

Following.

Generally I am down for following most accounts, and try to keep an open mind, but if I see anything gross; i.e. anything related to nsfw with minors, or animals, you will be blocked, and I will not feel the slightest remorse about it.

Content Warnings.

Karma's backstory goes over topics of, or relating to; child abuse, sexual assault, domestic abuse, body modification, body horror, gore, death, discussions of war, post traumatic stress, allusions to mental illness, discrimination ( relating to ethnicity, sexuality, and biology ).

if any of these make you so uncomfortable that it becomes difficult to interact with the account at all, I understand. She is a Chris Claremont character, and his writing tends to dive into topics that would make a general audience uncomfortable. Though I will tag some of these as necessary when they arise, I do not judge if this account is simply just not for you.

[tarosin]

the not so great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo and ranboo

this is an extra episode to the great adventures series -

people included: platonic! jack/tubbo/ranboo/tommy

please read what is written in bold

this is an “alternative ending” around 15 years into the future and is heavily inspired by bo burnhams song ‘goodbye’ this doesn’t mean this is actually how the series is going to end im writing it now and including it as part of series as their friendship is already established i can confirm y/n and the group are going to have a happy ending when the series eventually comes to an end this also does not mean the series is anywhere near the end i plan on continuing the series as vlogs come out. i’m sorry HOWEVER i am currently writing how y/n made friends with everyone so you have that to look forward to. i am sorry to the new people who requested to be on the taglist as this is the first thing you’re being tagged in

cw: angst, cursing

it had been around 14 years since ranboo moved to the UK, a year after the day you all met, to be with you tommy and tubbo. you were all thriving; you were living with your best friends, were all some of the most watched creators, you were constantly making new memories with everyone. you even had a wall full of photos of you all from every adventure you had been on with a picture of ranboo poorly edited into the background which made you laugh as you passed the wall every day. almost every evening you would all watch something on the tv, often re watching your favourite tv shows. the past few months had been pretty rough, there were days you didn’t even want to leave the house. you and tommy would fight over the smallest things. for example, a few weeks ago you were both arguing about who was responsible for forgetting something whilst out shopping.

“you were supposed to remind me to get it!”

“i told you to make a fucking list tommy, how is this my fault?”

“because i told you to fucking remind me but you were too focused on playing around!”

“you’re not making any sense tommy!”

“oh fuck off, y/n! i don’t even want to look at you right now!”

“so long tommy i’ll see you when i see you!”

and with that you left to stay with jack until you were ready to go back home, it was around now you lost your love for streaming, however jack encouraged you to stream for a little while so you fans don’t think you’ve left them in the dark. 20 minutes into the stream you felt like you were slowly loosing power even though it hadn’t even been an hour into your stream. A week later you were still with jack, that’s when you got the notification from tubbo.

bo: y/n... we’re sorry we tried our best to make him stay

boo: y/n come home as soon as possible

*tommy has left the chat*

*tommy has blocked tubbo, ranboo, jack and y/n*

bo: he blocked me??

jack: and me

boo: ...yeah

jack offered to drive you back home, which you gladly accepted. the ride was silent, the pair of you still trying to process what just happened, your friend of over 14 years had enough and left you all, until you finally spoke up your voice shaking as you tried not to cry.

“so this is how it ends heh?”

“well at least i’ll save fuel driving taking us all on adventures.”

“youre really joking at a time like this..”

“i was only trying to lighten the mood.. you know you’re being rather selfish not everything is about you. you’ve always been like this.”

“jack, i know you’re upset, i am too, please don’t take this out on me.”

“get out the car.”

“well stop the car then for fuck sake, i’m not getting injured because of you.”

as soon as jack pulled over, you got out and began the walk home, your vision became blurry due to the tears forming as you watched jack drive away. you ended up sitting in a cafe for a while to calm down. none of this felt real you pinched yourself, hoping to find out you were stuck in some nightmare. jack must have returned by the time you made it to the cafe as the community was now spamming questions on twitter asking why jack has now left and unfollowed everyone, followed by your mods telling you to check twitter. your fan base were hurt as their favourite streamers were falling apart and blocking each other. followed by them asking why you’ve not been streaming, you felt like you were going crazy as everyone else was able to stream and enjoyed doing so but you were struggling to stream with no one laughing in the background. you ended up sending a dm to your discord announcements knowing that they’ll share the news.

y/n: so long, goodbye for now. you guys have been extremely supportive over the past 15 years. however there is a lot going on right now (i’ll spare you all the details) i’m going to be taking a break for a while. after all does anybody want to joke when no one’s laughing in the background? i’m sure we’ll meet again, until then my loves!

10 minutes later you decided you should probably go home to the others, after all they’re all you have left.

“i promise to never go outside again.”

as soon as you walked into the house rather than being met with tubbo asking if you were okay, you were met with a notification.

*bo has left the chat*

he stood with his bags near the door

“this is all your fault, i can’t look at you anymore”

“you’re really joking in a time like this...right?”

“you were looking for a reason hide again.”

“trust me buddy i found it.”

ranboo pulled you as close as he could crying into the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his waist as tubbo left the house. it felt like he took the happy memories with him. as soon as ranboo let go, you ran to your room locking the door trying to hide away from the situation, ranboo sat on the other side of the door not wanting to be alone.

“am i going crazy? would i even know? am i right back where i started 14 years ago?”

“y/n let me in.”

you unlocked the door and practically fell into ranboos arms, once you felt strong enough the pair of you sat on your bed, nothing could separate the pair of you right now, you both lost the people you cared about.

“i swear to god all i ever wanted was a little bit of everything all of the time. i’ve finished playing and i’m staying inside.”

“y/n i’m sorry..”

“im sorry too, ranboo, i guess this is the it.”

“at least we have each other.”

“and that fucking photograph wall.”

“that’s a problem for another night..please get some rest.”

it took a while but eventually you fell asleep in his embrace. you may have lost the others but at least one of your best friends stuck around.

taglist (sorry guys)

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @c1loudee

[pleathewrites]

boys, boys, boys

chapter 2: revelations

Summary: Does Iwaizumi have a thing for setters or do setters have a thing for Iwaizumi?

“Maybe Iwa-kun does have a thing for grey hair,” Sugawara muses, the tip of his index finger circling the rim of his drink. He’s got that signature sly smirk across the very lips that locked with Hajime's a decade ago. 

“Oh my God.” 

Hajime is seriously considering begging Oikawa to jump-serve a volleyball to his head and knock him clean out just so they can all stop having this conversation - ‘Hell, Tooru’s strong as hell now. Might knock the entire memory of this night right out of my brain, for good.’ 

“Hey, I just made out with him - and possibly gave him his gay awakening. But I wasn’t the one who convinced him to change his career.”

“Oh my God.”

“Wait, what are you - ”

“Daichi, baby, seriously, you need to go see that doctor. I am actively concerned about you developing early-onset Alzheimer's," Sugawara says, tucking a strand of Sawamura's hair behind his ear, his impish smirk melting into a fond smile, "Does Shiratorizawa ring any bells?”

“Hey, I have my own life to worry about! I’m not gonna keep track of someone else’s love life - no offense, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Hey, non-taken. Please, never think about my love life.”

Much to Hajime’s horror, Daichi’s expression turns contemplative, “Wait, actually, though -”

“Fuck -”

“… Grey hair, Shiratorizawa...” Daichi snaps his fingers and points his index at Iwaizumi with a much-too-proud smile on his face, completely unaware of the man’s rising irritation. “Yes, right! Iwaizumi, didn’t you..?” 

“Ugh, God, that one,” injects Oikawa. 

Hajime feels the vein on his forehead throb at Oikawa’s tone, “Kawa... why are you so shitty.” 

“Well, sorry, if I don’t like the edge-lord that busted my entire future!” 

“Oikawa… You are literally at the Olympics… for the second time...” 

“Yeah, with you on the opposing side,” Oikawa says with a closed throat, sliding out of the booth, and heading off to the direction of the entrance doors.

Hajime sighs.

 *

 Their loss to Shiratorizawa is soul-crushing - it always is. 

‘Always�� - that’s the most crushing thing, Hajime despairs, ‘We always lose to that school.’ And Hajime feels the blow, of course, he's devastated, but it’s not personal, hell, it’s not even for his team - ‘God, I’m such a shitty Vice-Captain.’  

No, the absolute heartbreak he feels is for Tooru.

Hajime loves his team, he believes every single member has outrageous talent, but he knows that all their abilities combined, including his own, wouldn’t even hold a candle to Oikawa’s blinding torch.

Shiratorizawa is a school for rising champions, Abo Johsai is a school for kids with talent.  

Oikawa Tooru is on a completely different level, it's a fact - he outranks his own team. It keeps Hajime up at night because he knows that if Oikawa had a team that matched his talent and ability, he would never have to experience such consistent defeat. 

In times like these, Hajime feels shameful and useless, ‘How long will I hold Oikawa back?’

Hajime knows Oikawa. He knows he’s the real reason Oikawa chose Abo Josai, that because Hajime wasn’t good enough to get into Shiratorizawa, Oikawa shackled himself to a team that weighs more than he can carry. It reminds Hajime of those free-body-diagrams from physics class that Oikawa had to explain to him ten times over; Oikawa is the upward force, striving for victory at the speed of light, Hajime is the opposing frictional force, and Abo Johsai is plain gravity times mass times sine (or was it cosine?). Hajime only managed to scrape a B- in that class, so the only answer he can give this problem is that Oikawa isn't going anywhere, any time soon. 

A harsh slap to his back snaps Hajime out of his thoughts. He jumps with the force of it and doesn’t even have to turn his head to know who’s hand is laying firmly between his shoulder blades. He keeps his eyes downcast, but Oikawa - a true Captain - doesn’t force Hajime to look at him when he firmly whispers, “Next time, Iwa-chan. We’ll get ‘em.”

Their coach takes the team for ramen, gives them a speech about being proud and working hard, all while Oikawa is making faces at Hajime from across the table and, slowly, Hajime begins to let himself smile.

Halfway through dinner, Hajime feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Thinking it’s his mother asking when he’ll be home, Hajime turns on the lockscreen and sees it’s an Instagram notification. He unlocks his phone and swipes down his Notifications - Hajime had to reset his phone notifications to conceal messages ever since becoming friends with Sugawara Koushi because the boy has zero filter and he doesn’t need his mom accidentally seeing messages with eggplant and squirting emojis, encouraging Hajime to make ‘his move’, whatever that means. 

EITA (@notsemisemi) has requested to follow you.

Now, Hajime is confused. He doesn’t even remember the last time he posted a picture on Instagram - he only really made the account because Oikawa started crying about, “Iwa-chan, I want to tag you in this picture, people should know that you’re capable of smiling! Everyone else has an Instagram, let me make you one, you won’t even have to do anything!” - so he’s not really sure how or why a random person requested to follow him.

'Maybe it's a spam account?'

He looks closely at the username and tries to think if he knows anyone with that name. When nothing comes to mind, he clicks on the person’s account and is met with very aesthetically angsty selfies of a grey-haired boy with sharp eyebrows and deep collarbones. ‘

He’s kind of…’ Hajime tries to think of the right words. He wants to say ‘pretty’, but that doesn’t feel right - Sugawara is pretty, Oikawa is pretty. Pretty people are soft and round and peppy. This guy is… 

‘Hot.’ 

And weirdly familiar. 

He elbows Matsukawa, who’s sitting on his right, and turns his phone screen towards the boy, “Do you know this guy?”

“Hmph?” Matsukawa’s lazy eyes roam over his screen and he swallows his food before speaking, “Yeah, isn’t that the reserve setter? He came in as a sub when Oikawa hit Shiratorizawa’s main setter.” 

Like a self-conscious self-absorbed bat, whenever Oikawa’s name is merely uttered, the boy in question will hear it, no matter what he's doing, “Eh? Oikawa hit who? I swear, it couldn't have been me, I’m a pacifist!” And he proceeds to put his hands up in surrender. 

The lightbulb goes off in Hajime's head, “Oh! When Oikawa jump-served the ball at that small guy’s face? With the uneven bangs?” He makes a downward sloping motion across his forehead. 

“Yeah, that one,” Matsukawa points to the phone screen, “Pretty sure that’s the guy who subbed for the rest of the set.” 

“Yeah…” Hajime trails, before adding softly, “He was good… Wonder why their coach didn't give him more playtime.”

Oikawa’s quick-clapping hands bring Hajime out of his thoughts, “Oh! I know what we’re talking about now! First off, I didn’t hit Shorty, he wasn’t fast enough, that’s the consequence of the game! Also, why are we talking about this?”

“Iwaizumi is on the sub’s Instagram page.”

Oikawa squeaks, “Is this about your grey-hair-slash-old-man fetish?!”

Hajime groans and facepalms, “No, oh my God, stop telling people I have a fetish, Shittykawa! He followed me.”

“Block him!” 

Hajime sighs, locks his phone, and puts it away, “Just forget it.”

“Hmph. That guy’s not even first string. What does he want with our ace?”

Hanamaki joins in, “I wonder why he’s not first string, though. I’m pretty sure he’s a third year, he’s been there every time we played against them. 'M pretty sure that Shorty is definitely a second year.”

Oikawa’s face turns from snooty to serious and he crosses his arms, “He’s good, but he lacks instinct. His technique is fine, but he doesn’t have what Shorty does. Maybe if he worked harder, but from the looks of it tonight, he doesn’t want it bad enough. He’s not on Shiratorizawa’s level - maybe he was once, but not anymore.”

'Not on Shiratorizawa’s level… Sounds like we might have something in common, after all.’

That night, before Hajime goes to sleep, he accepts EITA’s follow request and follows him back.

continue to read chapter

[goldafterglow]

hold me in the meadows

Summary: You are Ezra’s dreamcatcher and he is your burrow.

Request: “The sleepy prompts!! Lovely! Can you do “I have had nightmares every night for the past three weeks and now they’re gone because of you, how did you do that?” with (can you guess??) EZRA” - the love of my life, @opheliaelysia

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k+

Tags: angst?, fluff, more metaphors that don’t mean anything, weird touching lol idk what the fuck this fic is, this is also not beta read so send the flood send the flu

Author’s Note: If you left a like or comment or reblog on Dissolve Me I’m telling you with as little shame as is humanly possible that I definitely reread it at least 3 times. Feedback means the word to me! also this was supposed to be a 500 word drabble and now it’s over 4.5k words if that tells you anything about me. I apologize in advance I think I’ve really outdone myself w/ my bullshit this time

Gif Credit: @pascvl; Also shout out to @pascalplease sorry I spammed you for nothing dsfgdsg

Ezra is staring at you.

He’d met you on one of those toxic moons, one of those deceitfully picturesque mirages where the dust glitters like lily petals but the air would kill you before you could think to appreciate it. You were a floater; a nomad with no place to call home, but you figured you liked it that way. Homes were permanent. They set lives and futures in cobblestone and trapped spirits in gated properties, keeping just about anything and everything tethered under the farce of security. Homes make paraffin casings around dragonfly wings and turn footprints to concrete. So you never had one, and you never wanted one. Ezra had found you amusing. You had found him to be better company than just yourself. So with great reluctance, you established a partnership. Not one forged in steel or bronze but something still fleeting, its true meaning always escaping your lips like a forgotten thought. It’s too much work to try and think about it anyway.

You had let him invite you to reside in his tent. It took coaxing, required copious amounts of golden honey spilling from Ezra’s tongue to get you to tenaciously stick to him, but you were no match for his silver tongue. He did everything he could to assure that this wasn’t a habitat, but merely a shelter - a thing that could be taken down and built back up somewhere else, anywhere you wanted. So you had obliged. He let you take the cot closest to the zipper door; you liked being closer to the exit, just a rotation away from being back on your feet. He tries to let you truly feel like if you wanted to escape, wanted to elope with liberty and run away from the loose bonds of the canopy, you could.

Three weeks of sleeping adjacent to him and you still don’t want to.

Ezra is used to temporary relationships. He has done his fair share of companion hopping, although he wasn’t really making an effort to do so. It scares him a little - why can’t he make anyone stay, make anything last? Partners passed him by, either to traverse on their lonesome or to stay with that greedy man in the eternal sky. Teams disbanded around him like glass castles shattering in his wake. Ezra, whether he liked it or not, was accustomed to transience.

He is not, however, accustomed to fearing that sharp brevity. Ezra is constantly on his toes around you, frequently wondering if he’s pushing you away or pulling you closer. You aren’t skittish, don’t constantly question everything he says or get offended by the sound of his voice, but he’s still scared of losing you. Every time he looks into your eyes he sees wonder, a certain fascination with life that he tries so hard to match because he wants to find things as beautiful as you do. As beautiful as you are. He wants to mis-quote your favorite novels that you force him to read so that you’ll scold him so affectionately and tell him that perhaps he had garnered a little brain damage from his previous escapades. He wants to trip over tree roots that have herniated through the soil so you can laugh at him, maybe lay there on the grass with him for a little bit. Just a little bit.

In your own mind, you are guarded. You try your very best not to get too personal, too deep, too much. Because you don’t like it when people can see your flushed, bloody insides. You just know that the moment you open your chest, someone will steal your heart right out of your rib cage and like the pass of a hummingbird, all of your secrets will be free to float in the breeze like the ashes of your lost quintessence; it’ll all be gone and then you’ll really be empty.  So how could you ever know what you mean to Ezra?

He knows what a truly locked up person looks like. He’s spent hundreds of cycles with people that don’t make a noise. He’s sat in bustling pods of people and felt like the only man in the room, like solitary confinement for his mind. No, you are not some warning-covered steel box, padlocked and duct-taped and glued shut so that even if he’s sitting right next to you, he’ll have nothing more than his own voice bounce to off of your walls and fly right back to him. You’re a music box, a gold-trimmed heart-shaped sound bottle, and he learns that if he winds you up the right way, you’ll sing so pretty for him.

He has spent so long talking, nonsensically making those arbitrary noises burst out of his throat until they lose all meaning, but finally, for the first time in so fucking long, Ezra gets to listen.

He listens to you tell him you think his hair is stupid and that sometimes he smells bad. He listens to you lament about barren dig-sites and wasted time, about how it’s so fucking hot in your suit. He listens to you fantasize about touching the trees, burying your face in your flowers and squeezing the moss in your hands. About drowning in the river so that your body is filled with the water and then rolling in the sand so that it all sticks to you and you have to dive back in to clean off. About feeling something.

Sometimes, Ezra just wants to hear something other than his own voice. And you’re the cold towel to his inflamed skin, refreshing and addictive. You’re much braver than you think, so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, because for once, Ezra can talk into the forest and know that there’s someone to listen besides the leaves. He doesn’t feel alone.

Every night, when the moon has turned its back on the narcissistic Sun and opened its arms to the thousands of other stars, each just a prick of light but understanding of their place in the tapestry of the darkness, the two of you retire to that tent. You both redress into comfortable clothes, backs turned on each other under the guise of respect, and climb into your respective cots. Ezra would turn off that shitty lantern that illuminated the enclosure, and your shadows would dissipate into the darkness.

Except Ezra’s shadows don’t disappear; they hide. They blend into the black and mold into one man-engulfing untamable beast to possess Ezra’s throat. And they manifest again in his mind. They poison that movie that plays once you slip consciousness, instills fear into his bone marrow until he doesn’t feel safe in his own body, his own thoughts.

These slumber illusions haunt Ezra. His right arm waves at him in his sleep, the souls to which he was the conduit bridging life and death haunt his diaphragm with toothy grins to mock him, screeching into his cavities. They remind him that he was never really alone because he has the suffocating embrace of those spirits that are sewn so tight to his eyelids. Every night he somehow manages to pull himself from the darkness only for his own demons to pull him back by the throat. He is always oscillating between consciousness and unconsciousness, being tossed around like a helpless rag with no hope of liberation. Nothing scares him more than his own thoughts.

And you know. You know all of it. How could you not? You were born a tumbleweed, wandering across desolation, so of course you’re a light sleeper. And you can hear Ezra’s choked cries, his tossing and turning as he drains himself of any sense of safety. But this man is a stranger to you. He is just a person you reside with, talk to all the time, nudge gently and tease and smile with. He is just the person that you wake up wanting to see, whose attention you always crave. A stranger.

So every night you turn your body to face the zipper of the tent and pretend that you can’t hear him cry. Pretend that you don’t sometimes cry with him. A pretty lavender lie that smells sweet, tastes sweeter.

You, in your cowardice, let him destroy himself. Watch as the bags under his eyes get bigger and greyer and the strings holding his shoulders up lose their tension.

Ezra, in his flawed cratered embodiment, is only human. And he had gone so long without holding anyone, without being held. He knows what he wants, knows who he wants. But he also knows how jittery you are, how fluttery your heart is, and he doesn’t want to approach it too fast lest he startle you and you fly off into the stars. But he can’t keep doing this, can’t live with himself when he knows he’s not the one in control but those horned, slimy creatures that claw at his maxilla with their venomous grins.

The lights are out in the tent per usual, so Ezra can’t really see you. His careful eyes can trace the outline of the curves of your body - or is it that his delusional eyes are envisioning some arbitrary glow around you, convincing him that what he’s seeing is real? Reality is a concept with which he is no longer familiar.

You, laying in your cot, decide that you just can’t take it anymore. You can’t stand to let this intruder of your life break you down the way he is without even trying. How dare he look into you, how dare he listen to you without passing judgement, how fucking dare he make you feel like a flower in bloom?

Ezra hears your breaths - they’re uneven. You haven’t gone to sleep. What are you waiting for?

“Ezra?” you practically squeak into the void. His ears perk up immediately; your cotton candy voice is enticing to him, flossing its way through his veins.

“What are you doing up, birdie?” Ezra asks softly, the air of his lungs floating on top of his words. He doesn’t mean to keep you awake, but he isn’t mad that you are. It’s stimulating his nerves enough to keep himself awake, and that’s something he probably won’t ever be able to repay you for.

“I-um….” Shit. You hadn’t expected to get this far. What would you say to him? How could you tell him that you wanted to help cleanse him, that you wanted to grovel in lime-coated thumb tacks with him and absorb his pain into your tissue paper skin? “I can’t sleep.”

Not a lie. Ezra knows you mean it. He just doesn’t know why.

“Well that won’t suffice,” he decides, outstretching his left arm blindly off the edge of his cot until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for: that goddamn lantern. With a little more fumbling, a weak but good enough orange glow is emitted on the floor between the two of you. You both catch each other’s pitiful gaze. You want to take care of each other, want to shield each other from the red sprites that nip angrily at each other’s hearts. Ezra holds his left arm out to you, tentatively. He’s never been more unsure in his life. He watches you glance at his arm, and then quickly to the side. You’re trying to decide if you’ll let him add another tether to you. If you’ll let him become something sewed so tight to your bleeding skin that to leave would rip you apart.

You slowly get up and walk over to his cot.

Ezra lets out a soft breath and his lips turn to a soft smile. He’s soft.

“C’mere, dandelion” he mumbles to you, and he hasn’t missed his right arm so much as in this moment. He wants to hold you properly, wants to keep you as close to him as possible. You’re hesitant, and he can tell. You’ve never been this close to him before, and you want to savor it. When your head finally touches his shoulder, it’s like a catalyst ignites underneath the two of you. You mold into each other the way the gods intended, like lake water seeping into the smallest of crevices of an empty river bed. Like the opposing poles of two magnets, like a key penetrating a lock. Like you were made for each other. Your arms immediately wrap around him, his neck now a fixture of your body, and his arm leads you to lay down on the cot. Without words, without that candid discourse that Ezra was so fond of, his face is buried into the warmth of your chest and he feels like you’ve cast an ethereal shield around him.

Ezra doesn’t need to hold you tight because you’re holding him tighter, like you’re trying to cling to something invisible and foreign before it can even think to leave you. Before it realizes that it doesn’t want you. Don’t leave. He can feel you breathe him in, face smashed against his wild hair, and he can’t blame you because he’s breathing you in too.

“Sweetheart-” he breathes, fanning against your skin in a way that sends a deep shiver down your spine and shakes your shoulders.

“Shh.” And for once in his cursed life, he’s speechless. There’s so much, too much that he wants to say to you, but his mind is shouting all of it at him at once and he doesn’t even know where to start. So he shuts the fuck up. He feels you. He feels your heat melt him until he can barely control his own muscles because they’ve gone limp, unable to perform a single contraction because his fibers are relaxed, are at peace.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep.

When Ezra wakes, you’re still sweet and motionless around him. The lamp was still on, still shining pathetically on the ground. He doesn’t feel the need to look around or squeeze his lids closed in an attempt to wring the bad rest out of him.

Rest?

He thinks fucking hard. When had he woken up last night? When had his banshees infiltrated his thoughts and cried into the void of his packed mind? All he can recall are caramel dreams, whipped cream clouds and berry trampolines for him to jump high into the cotton candy sky. He thinks he might like it that way. Maybe every night can be like that, every morning can feel this transcendent.

He hears you moan quietly as you stir not long after him, breaths shuddering on their way out of your nose as you slowly come to your senses.

“Good morning, birdie,” Ezra finally says. He doesn’t know what to say to you, what he can say to you, without making you flip a switch and realize that it’s all a mistake, that he is a mistake. His eardrums smile as your sleepy whining settles.

“Morning, Ezra,” you whisper, throat not ready to talk yet. It’s okay; you’d rather hear him talk to you anyway.

“Did you…were you able to achieve some sort of comfort?” Ezra asks. For a second you’re confused until you remember what you’d told him last night, and you realize that you’re holding him the same way you were when you’d gone to sleep. He hadn’t woken up.

“Yeah, Ezra,” you finally say after letting yourself simmer in the silence for a second. “Thank you.”

He smiles wide against your skin, the blunt tip of his excitement the battering ram that beats against his racing heart. He’s given you something worthy of your gratefulness, and the feeling of being worthy light his chest with blue flames.

“It’s not my intention to blow you away, dandelion,” Ezra says, his nerves manifesting into his characteristic breathy laughs, “but I can’t deny how direly I want to just touch you.” You feel the air get knocked out of you as your diaphragm begins to spasm; what is he asking? You’ve thought about it before; god, of course you’ve thought about it before. To lay back as you let him study you, memorize you and then let you do the same. Analyze the sculpted marble of his body to remind yourself why you love it so much.

“Please.”

It’s barely a whisper, a secret told to the wind, but Ezra hears you. Ezra always hears you.

So Ezra’s fingers begin to wander along your skin. He wants to map out the scars on your body, wants to learn the shape of you so intimately that he could remodel you if he wanted to. He wants to know your body the way he knows when you’re disappointed or frustrated or amazed or confused. He wants to just know.

You feel the calloused pads of Ezra’s fingers put a little pressure onto that dip of your thoracic vertebrae, draw circles above your hip right under the fabric of your sweatshirt, caress your shoulder. He’s slowly exposing your skin to the humid chill of the dank enclosure, carefully making your top cover less and less of you, but you’ve never felt warmer.

As Ezra’s mind begins to really warm up and the cogs begin to grease themselves, his words begin to flow out the way you’re used to. The way you’ve learned to love.

“Sweetheart, I have had nightmares every night for the past three weeks and now they’re gone,” he blurts. Fuck. His hand stutters against the small of your back. He’s done it now, he’s really gone and blown it, because now you know he’s fucking broken and you’re smart enough to know when to avoid damaged goods. You have to know that if you were to take your hands and try and feel him you’d just get bumps and ridges and cracks. But Ezra is selfish, can’t help himself or his thoughts, so he keeps rambling. “It is not my intention to come off as presumptuous, but I just know it’s because of you. How did you do that, birdie? You never told me you were sent to me as a dreamcatcher.”

You can’t help but smile into his scalp a little at his words. You didn’t mind taking all of his bad dreams and refracting them far away into the space between the stars for him. A light, breathy laugh rolls off your tongue like a huff, because fuck, if you were going to be embroidered to something it might as well be him.

Your breath hitches again as the back of his hand runs flat along your stomach. It travels back around and up to the nape of your neck, tracing your shoulders and then over to your clavicles, paying close attention to the dips. You can’t help but wonder if this means as much to him as it does to you; it means everything to you.

“You’re right. I’ve been holding out on you all this time,” you say, and he can hear you smile through the roses of your words. He slowly and with purpose lifts his head from your embrace so that he can look up at you, maybe even catch a glimpse of that pretty grin of yours and burn it onto his lenses.

“I’m not confident that you’ll ever know how fortuitous I was the day I met you.” Ezra’s voice is low as he speaks, his drawl stretching and fraying the ends of his words, and you soak in every last syllable. You soak in the meaning of his words. He feels lucky to have you.

You look down at him, bringing a hand to run through his hair. That stupid blonde streak snatches your attention for a moment and you thumb at the strands. You want to tease him about it, mock him a little, but you don’t. The moon marine in your arms holds so much unbridled beauty, and it’s all yours to look at.

Ezra is all yours to look at.

Ezra’s hand travels up to your face, cupping your cheek while his thumb toys with the corner of your mouth in a way that makes you bite your lip through a smile. Throwing all caution to the wind, you turn your head and press a shy kiss to the heel of his palm. Ezra’s skin burns where you’ve sanctified him. His hand begins to crave your touch in other ways, he is craving something more from you, but he knows he does far too much taking. He’s already taken so much from you, has already stolen so many moments from you out of sheer gluttony, but it’s not always his fault because you’re so giving. He knows you were a little hollow from the start, knows you were a little frayed in the first place, but still you share your thoughts and companionship with him because whether you know it or not, you’re a little taken by this space mutineer. If you fled this little thing you’ve built with him, you’d be leaving the prettiest parts of yourself behind for him to keep taking care of the way a mother makes her son’s bed after he leaves for college because what if you want to come back?

But you haven’t left, haven’t abandoned him and in turn, yourself. You’re right here, letting him bask in your reverent lavender radiation, and as he looks at how you’re giving off your own intrinsic glow because the shitty orange light on the ground isn’t enough, he knows he hasn’t earned it. He doesn’t think this is a very fair transaction at all, but he’s too selfish to stop you from paying a little extra. You’ll let him keep the change.

Ezra wordlessly lifts his head, nosing at your wrist so that you’ll bring it lower and let him kiss the delicate skin there. He looks up at you with wide, eager eyes of adoration. His feelings for you are beginning to bubble underneath the surface of his silk-lined thoughts and he is willing them to stay at that low simmer because he doesn’t want to think about anything except how fucking gorgeous you look in the lamplight.

“I’m growing rather fond of the way you feel against me,” Ezra finally says. Everything is so foreign now, so new, so he tries to do the one thing you both know, the one routine you can both dance without needing to think about it: talking.

“I like it too Ezra,” you giggle. Not a long, flittery one, but a pass of air with a note under it. You’re a little nervous too.

“I reckon I could get accustomed to this,” he whispers. Your lip betrays you, curling itself to reveal your reply before you even say it. Your teeth capture your lower lip for the act of treason, but it’s too late. “But I’d just hate it if I made you feel like you’re bearing my baggage.”

“Ezra, you don’t have crippling baggage,” you insist. What is this man talking about? You were the one with issues. You were the one that had to be convinced to stay with him, you were the one that insisted on the right cot, you were the real coward here. You were broken. “Everyone has their demons. There is so much more inside of you. You’re so full.”

Ezra’s eyes go a little wide at your words. You didn’t think he was half a man? Some incomplete mosaic that would never find his missing pieces?

“You flatter me,” he chuckles; no, he giggles.

“Well…I just figured there’s no way a broken man could handle his broken partner the way you deal with me.” His expression melts into something more than pity and less than ignorance - confusion. The tap in Ezra’s tongue pops loose and his words begin to cascade from his lips like some majestic phenomenon, like holy water spraying the filth off of your brow.

“I need you to look at me, firefly.” His voice is more stern now, his words more articulate as he shifts up the bed slightly so that he’s eye level with you. He’s still on his side, his left hand is still gripping the flesh at your hip. “I don’t think you’ll ever truly comprehend how much you’ve done for me these past cycles, but this life is quiet and toilsome. You’re capable of recognizing beauty in things I wouldn’t have even taken note of in the first place, and I hang onto your every utterance whether you’re aware or not. It’s easy for me to sit here and tell you how bad I always want you because you fill my thoughts, pretty dandelion. And if someone came here and regurgitated your exact words to me, it still wouldn’t hold a candle to the way you sing when you wonder out loud. I don’t need to ‘deal’ with you, sweet rose. I want you.”

Your lip quivers a little; you know Ezra likes talking to you, he’s told you before. But you couldn’t help but assume Ezra just likes talking, period. That he liked having you around about as much as he’d enjoy the company of any other talker. To think that someone wants you, your passions and afterthoughts and pondering notions, meant more than anything you could articulate.

“Ezra-” you start, but you cut yourself off. You want to let his words turn into condensation on your skin, to form little rain clouds above your head so that they pour back down on you in delicate drops. You want to let him linger, to sit and hang above you like the sky hangs above the ocean.

You look straight at him, deep into his inquiring brown eyes as you both begin to breathe the same air, scents mingling between you like the heat between two stars. His nose is right up against yours and you can feel his lashes caress your cheekbone. He’s so close, but you want him closer, need him to move his hand or blink his eyes or do something, because you can’t take the nothingness anymore when you’ve got everything pressed right up against your face.

Ezra decides he wants one last thing from you.

“My rose, I don’t want to ask too much of you, but I suppose if that were true I wouldn’t have invited you to stay with me anyway. In the tent, of course. Not the cot.” Fuck, what was he saying? He lets out a soft laugh as he tries to reorganize his thoughts, a blushing mess under your gaze because he’s so used to knowing exactly how to get what he wants, but he’s really pushing your boundaries and bending your fence posts now. You’re turning him into a man who fumbles, a man who doesn’t always have to know what he’s about to say, and he doesn’t mind being a little less talk around you and a lot more touch.

Suddenly, he’s reminded of what he wanted to ask you.

“Sweet creature, could I kiss you?”

You don’t miss a beat in this soft ballad you’re playing with him, letting out a gentle “yeah, Ezra.”

You don’t like homes, don’t like to be told that you’re forever nailed to walls and wood. But maybe, as Ezra’s scruffy chin leans up to slot his lips against yours, you could build a tent in him. Maybe this leaky soul was your permanent, your unyielding, your perpetual.

As Ezra tilts his head towards you with a soft moan so he can kiss you the way you deserve, speak to you through the blinding sensation of his mouth telling you how he wants you, needs you, loves you, without using a single word, he is confident that his hollow cavities are beginning to be filled by your amber essence. He can tell you’re letting yourself finally take root in him, clearing out the wretched foliage so that you can curl up in the meadow of his soul and rest your bones within him.

Yeah.

You’re home.

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