#the show and ended up with nothing really fixed in the end of the show deserved to have so many more fix its

[nerokoma]

heads up! — NOTHING (26/30)

1.1k words

“Thanks again for the ice cream.” You let out a chuckle as Kuroo took a seat on the curb beside you. “Even though you really didn’t have to.” 

The boy only smirked, shrugging as he opened his ice cream package. “I’m only being a good host, considering we’re in my city.” 

You scoffed, shaking your head as you took a bite of your own ice cream. The sun had already set, the light from the convenience store illuminating your figures and casting shadows onto the ground in front of you. The city had grown quiet, the store conveniently located on a quieter street in the neighbourhood, away from the loud, metropolitan area. 

“It’s really nice to be back though,” you said, an air of wistfulness in your voice that quickly disappeared as you looked at him in excitement. “I was watching your match earlier! I’m glad you guys made it through.” 

Kuroo looked at you with a teasing glint. “Were you doubting us? I’m hurt, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Not for a second,” you answered. “I just know how excited our teams are to face each other again.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Kuroo said with a small chuckle. “The first years have so much energy. I’m jealous, honestly.” 

You nodded, laughing. “Ours too. I have no idea where they get all their energy from. Maybe it’s all the snacks I give them.” 

“Speaking of snacks, what were those cookies you gave us when we first went to Miyagi?” he asked, tilting his head. “I’ve been thinking about them for months. I think they’re the best cookies I’ve ever had.”

A frown made its way onto your face as you thought back, and in that moment, Kuroo’s eyes fixed on you with a soft smile as he studied your focused gaze. The moment your eyes lit up in remembrance, he immediately glanced away. 

“Ah! Those were specialty cookies from a local bakery in our town! The owners were so sweet and gave me a discount because I ordered so many.” You grinned at him. “You should have told me sooner! I could have brought you some.” 

The boy let out a chuckle, taking another bite of his ice cream. “Sorry, that’s on me.” 

“It’s alright,” you said with a smile. “Just let me know if you ever come back to Miyagi. I can show you the bakery.” 

Kuroo smiled at you, his gaze lingering on your figure for just a second too long. He gave a single nod before looking away. 

“Are you planning on staying local for university?” he asked tentatively. 

You opened your mouth to speak, though hesitated for a moment. 

“I…don’t know yet,” you admitted. “I’ve applied to a couple places around the country– even some outside of Japan. I haven’t decided where I’m going yet.” A small sigh escaped your lips. “And honestly, I don’t even want to think about it right now.” 

“I understand,” Kuroo said, nodding. “It’s a lot to think of and decide in a short amount of time.” 

Your lips tightened into a straight line as you nodded. “It feels like time is moving so fast. Like, a part of me still can’t believe that we’re actually here. In Tokyo! At the nationals! The boys have worked so hard for this.”

Kuroo pointed his ice cream cone at you with raised eyebrows, a stern expression on his face.

“What did I say before about selling yourself short?” 

“Sorry, sorry. We worked so hard for this.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “But really, if you told me a year ago that we were going to make it all the way to nationals, I don’t think I would’ve believed you.” 

“How did you end up as a manager anyways?” he asked, glancing sideways. “Some teams don’t even have one manager, let alone two.” 

A small chuckle escaped your lips as you took another bite of ice cream. 

“It’s all thanks to Kiyoko, actually. I wouldn’t have touched volleyball with a 10-foot pole if it wasn’t for her.” You paused for a moment as the memories from years before came flooding back while Kuroo watched you curiously. “I told you before that Daichi and I hated each other in first year, didn’t I?” 

Kuroo nodded, remaining quiet as you continued. 

“I actually had the biggest crush on him at the time, like, embarrassingly so. When he approached Kiyoko and I to ask if we wanted to be managers, I almost said no because it made me so nervous to be near him, but Kiyoko convinced me to join because she thought it would be fun for the both of us. I was so afraid he’d find out I liked him though that I started avoiding him and acting coldly. But Daichi thought that meant I hated him, so he started acting coldly too, and it was this whole back and forth of us being purposefully mean out of spite. We only snapped out of it when the other third years locked us in the equipment room and didn’t let us out until we worked things out.” 

“How did that work out?” Kuroo asked. His voice had quieted slightly, though it went unnoticed by you. 

“We both apologized for how we acted and agreed it was really childish, and we’ve been chill ever since. I’m glad we did- things would’ve been hard if a manager and player hated each other. Plus, he’s a really great person and my life definitely would’ve been missing something if we’d never made up.”

“Did he know that you..?” 

You shook your head. “Nope, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he figured it out at some point.” You turned to the boy, expecting his usual cheeky grin, though confusion spread across your face when you were met with his serious expression, a distant look in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “Kuroo? Is something wrong?” 

“Wha-? No. No, everything’s fine.” Without warning, he brought himself to his feet, quickly brushing himself off. You quickly followed suit, not taking your eyes off him as he pulled his phone out. “Sorry, I just- I forgot there’s something important I had to discuss with my team tonight.”

Although confused, you nodded, slowly following him as he began stepping away. “Oh, that’s ok! Did you wanna walk back tog-”

Kuroo shook his head, not meeting your gaze as he continued to walk away. “Sorry, Y/N. I really need to go,” he said. The boy turned and began sprinting away, leaving you standing in front of the convenience store by yourself. 

“What just happened…” you mumbled to yourself, glancing down when you felt something wet on your hand. 

Your ice cream had begun to melt, dripping down onto the sidewalk as you watched his figure grow smaller with every second that passed. However, there was nothing you could do about that, nor did it seem like there was anything you could do about the ache in your chest as you turned and began to walk back on your own. 

kuroo’s got his priorities straight: make the battle at the garbage dump happen, win nationals, go to university, and maybe win the heart of the rival team’s cute manager along the way.

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a/n: kuroo was supposed to be so much more of a red flag but i couldn't do it. i'm sorry. i physically cannot i love him too much

[kevjeanyves]

i just got here (and by that i mean i binged the whole show while studying for finals between november and december), but buddie can’t NOT go canon. not at this point. not with everything they’ve set up

bucks canonically bisexual. that’s a massive key component. the queerBAIT is now lying entirely on eddie’s shoulders. and in terms of bucks storyline, the horrible guy he dated was given a barebones personality…that resembles eddie (military, likes sports, had a serious relationship with a woman). almost every trait they gave That Guy resembles eddie (except eddie isn’t racist). they did that on purpose. buck, bothered, bewildered, bisexual or whatever it’s called was so centred on bucks relationship with eddie

plus the whole confessions “i’m not your last” moment, only for the LAST shot of that episode to be buck and eddie sitting side by side. confessions as a whole is such insane proof of impending buddie canon too…the whole focus on eddie finding joy, on eddie’s catholic guilt and guilt in general, on eddie not wanting to See himself both figuratively and literally because he’s scared of what he’ll find…josh’s speech applying to eddie but making no sense regarding that Other Guy (the glee thing made no sense regardless)

and THAT focus is so obviously pointing towards eddie being gay. eddie’s entire everything has always pointed towards him being gay, i can’t lie, but it’s getting so much more obvious. they’ve reached a point where nothing about eddie’s personal arc or journey makes any fucking sense UNLESS he’s gay, and every storyline is making it more obvious that they’ve realized it

his catholic guilt being brought up. not wanting to be intimate with a woman who represents god in his mind. sex, god, and shame all coming together in that episode, AND bobby bringing up that eddie does this thing in relationships where he makes excuses instead of examining how he really feels towards them…now im sure bobby doesn’t know eddie’s gay, but it invites the audience and eddie to examine his past behaviour towards female romantic partners. and every single thing about that priest/juice scene in confessions. catholicism guilt tied into sexuality again (“uh…n-no offence…i-im straight” to a priest like cmon)

and speaking of past relationships, eddie’s grief is at the forefront of his storyline too now. his main most pressing storyline being chris’s running away. eddie’s grief and complicated emotions towards shannon have always been something he struggles with, and in s7 we learn that chris has complicated feelings around his mom too. and at the end of s7…well. what a stupid fucking storyline, but grief is the driving force of the chasm between eddie and chris. this addresses the most important romantic relationship eddie had with a woman (obviously shannon), and hopefully the relationship he has with his son, and both of those people are excuses eddie might be making in his own head to justify not even questioning his sexuality. eddie and shannon had chris when they were teenagers, eddie’s been a dad literally his entire adult life. does he know he can be gay if he’s been married? if he has a kid? does he know he’s allowed to even question his own sexuality? it’s probably what michael felt, but more complicated

AND michael stayed with athena thinking she could “fix” him. eddie said in s7 that he thinks he’s broken and can’t be fixed, to a woman he’d been unadvisedly pursuing, a woman who looked just like his own wife…

then, the “you think being a cheerleader makes your son weak?” storyline. cheerleading is seen as feminine and there are a lot of stereotypes about male cheerleaders and feminine men. both cheerleading and being gay are seen as feminine. the cheerleader called eddie “dad” and hen pointed out to chim that it his emergency is difficult for eddie because he misses his own kid AND the conversation with the cheerleaders dad where he relates it to his own current situation, which connects the storyline to eddie and chris. but the “you think [stereotypically feminine thing] makes your son weak?” brings eddie and ramon to mind. because eddie was raised to be hypermasculine and Not Weak, never weak. what would ramon think if eddie comes out as gay?

and, finally, the focus on eddie finding joy. on eddie doing any introspection at all. on eddie Seeing himself and understanding himself and being kinder to himself. on eddie realizing he deserves to be happy. on eddie realizing he doesn’t have to hide behind his (ridiculously adorable) moustache, that he doesn’t have to hide who he is

s7 was for bi buck. s8 is for gay eddie AND likely for buddie. eddie’s currently trying to see Himself and make amends with his past (and because that went badly, making amends with chris…the child he sorta partially legally gave to buck, in a way…). buck’s trying to not lose hope over the future, wondering who’ll be the last to love him (or wondering if he’s loveable at all). eddie’s true self AND bucks endgame are called into question at the same time…now maybe i just got here But

[little-miss-fandom-freak]

This isn't a request or anything I just had a funny thought but like, imagine if the Justice League finally got evidence that Y/N is innocent, and they tried to visit but Phosphorus is just. Booing and throwing trash at the League members. Y/N may join in also. Bonding time 🩷

Okay I know I need to be working on my other asks but I LOVE THIS

Dr. Phosphorus X Former Hero!Reader Pt 2.

Little note: I did want this to end on a happier note and I found it hard to be mad at Superman lol

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You didn't understand why Superman and Batman were here in Belle Reve. You had assumed it was for some meeting with Waller until one of the guards approached you and your team.

"C'mon," She said as she lifted your shoulder, "you got visitors."

You looked around, completely confused. "Visitors? Who would be visiting me?" The guard didn't respond as she pulled you away from the table and put your hands in cuffs. He tried to shrug them off, determined to stay with you. You gave him a stern look, one that said 'don't do anything that will get you in trouble'. He sighed as he took a step back, letting the guards take you out to the courtyard.

You were shocked to find out that your former teammates were the visitors. You tried to dig your heels into the concrete, causing the gurads to struggle as they dragged you to them. "I have nothing to say to you two!" You yelled from across the courtyard.

They gave each other a look before Superman took a step forward. "Lose the cuffs, guys. She's won't do anything."

The guards looked to Waller for confirmation. She nodded, giving them permission to take the tight handcuffs off. You rubbed your wrist as the two approached you. "Leave me alone, Superman." You said with spite

"Look..." He started, clearly trying to find the right words to say. "I know there's no taking back everything that's happened these past few years, but I hope you understand why we did it."

"You mean how the whole team left me to rot in a cell, not even showing up for my trials!" You yelled.

"We wanted to, but it wasn't a good time. For any of it. You have to believe us." He pleaded.

"Why should I? It's not like you believed a word I said!" You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to calm yourself. "I hope you two didn't come all the way out here just to apologize and think I'll forgive you, cause there's no way in hell-"

"The court has decided to give you bail." Batman said, stopping you mid rant.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing right now. "Give me bail? Why?"

"While you were locked up, things changed. New laws were made, old ones were fixed, and your lawyer found new evidence to support your case. If you choose to go to trail and plead not guilty, there's a chance you'll make bail. And I would be happy to pay it, if you promise to return to the Justice League."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Back in the rec room, Phosphorus was standing on top of one of the tables that he had pushed against the wall, trying to get a view of what was going on outside. Nina and Bride had joined him; for Nina it was out of concern, for Bride it was simply because she was bored.

"What are they saying?" He mumbled, his grip on the bars tightening as he tried to listen.

"It has to be something about her case." Said Bride. "With how long she's been in here, and not a single visit before, there must've been a change."

Phosphorus didn't know how to take that. Was there more that you didn't tell him? Were more years added to your sentence? Are you getting transferred? Or worse, did they find you innocent?

The Bride side glanced at Phosphorus, a knowing smirk graced her lips. "You know, you're really bad at pretending you're not the "jealous boyfriend" type."

His head whipped around in her direction, his flames rose but she couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment.

"I-I just- you- just-just shut up!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You thought for a moment, you weren't quite sure how to respond. "If I come back, I want a few things."

Batman scoffed. "Do you really think you're in the position to be negotiating?"

"I'll have you know, prison life hasn't been all that bad for me." You said with sass as your crossed your arms. "Once I got over the feeling of betrayal, I actually formed relationships with the inmates."

"Really?" Superman cringed at the thought. "But they're murderers-"

"At least they know loyalty."

"Barely." Batman shot back.

You gritted your teeth. "Task Force M has showed more loyalty to me than any if the Justuce League. I'm am perfectly fine with staying in here, you're the ones who want me back. So, do we have a deal?"

Batman glared at you before he made up his mind. "What do you want?"

You tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "My team, I want to be able to see them while I'm out. Not just visitation hours, I want them out of Belle Reve when I see them."

Superman and Batman looked at each other, before Batman looked to Waller. She shrugged. "Task Force M has been more well behaved than usual. If they can keep it up, I'm sure I can arrange something."

You nodded to Waller, silently thanking her for her cooperation. You turned back to the men in front of you. "Looks like I'm back."

A wide smile filled Suoerman's face. He rushed to you a scooped you up into a hug. "You have no idea how hard it was not to visut you, but we were under so much fire at the time. The governmentthought it would be safer if we temporarilydropped connections. "

You embraced the hug, realizing how much you actually missed your old team. Suddenly, you heard muffled yelling coming from across the courtyard. Looking to your left, you saw Phosphorus yelling something you couldn't hear but Superman could.

"Um, why is the glowing skeleton yelling at me to get my hands off of you?" He asked, clearly concerned.

You chuckled. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

Suddenly, several peices of trash came flying your way. Well, not exactly flying. They hit the ground several feet away from the three of you, but the action was enough to make the guards inside tackle your partner.

With a sigh, you removed yourself from the hug. "We should head back in."

As Waller and the guards led you all back inside, Batman came up beside you.

"Phosphorus? Really?"

You smiled slightly as you shrugged. "What can I say, he's got charm."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Yeah, it's called radiation. I don't think he's good for you-"

"Don't go all dad-mode on me Bats, we're still the same age remember?"

He scoffed. "And yet you're the one making juvenile dating choices."

"Uh huh, and how's it going with Selena?" You said with a shit-eating grin. He was quiet for a few moments.

"Fair point." He said, causing you to let out a laugh. As much as you hated them, and how long it will be before eyour relationships are repaired, you couldn't deny that you missed moments like this.

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I hope you enjoyed this and if you have anything you would like me to personally respond to, message me or put it in my ask box because as of right now, Tumblr won't let me respond to comments :)

[evangelineenjoysdaisuke]

WHO TFK IS THIS GUY?

Daisuke x F!reader

Warning: language, eventual smut, jimmy and everything that comes with him (lol). y/n smokes weed!!

a/n: y/n is a therapist on the tulpar! (not my original idea, @/-Mairibby on wattpad) the fic series wont be mainly about y/n and daisuke, its more about everyone, but daisuke and y/n get together eventually, yk? things may or may not go on plot due to me not giving a fuck lol. remember that this is from y/n's point of view, so not everything she says or thinks will be correct. but this fic is mostly getting familiar with the dynamics between y/n and the others, enjoy! ALL OF MY CONTENT IS FOR ALL READERS. PERIOD. EVERYONE IS SAFE HERE!

PT 1.

You were afraid of heights and elevators…so what the fuck are you doing in space? You questioned, looking at yourself in the restroom, and looking down at your scratchy material uniform…pony express…yay. Only a year left, bigger yay.

You were the only girl aside from anya on the ship, which didn't bother you much. You were known for keeping things positive and whomever you had a conversation with, it would always end in a laugh. So you went on ship as a newly licensed therapist. After graduating college, you'd come across a flyer stuck on a light post with a cute pony on it. You said hm, then in a week, you started your new job.

You didn't know any of these people, really. Curly, the captain, Jimmy, sketchy dark guy..usually your type, but co-captain. Anya, the nurse, Swansea, the mechanic, and daisuke, the idiot intern. Things are going smoothly, the food wasn't your favorite but there wasn't anything salt and pepper can't fix (god, you wish you had cajun seasoning. You made a mental note to bring some next time) you managed to smuggle your weed pen and a zip, knowing in order to be the best therapist you can be you have to be the least stressed. You hid it under your pillow, they make comments about the smell and know someones carrying it between all of you, but can't find it. They point fingers at daisuke, but don't attack him since they cant confirm it.

If anyone needed to be attacked, it was Jimmy, the nasty cigs that laid between his lips as you all sat around the table playing card games or just simply talking, the smell was louder than Swansea playing a game of poker. You didn't know why you paid so much attention to him, his aura was alluring. You liked how dirty he looked, like he has no shame. But there was just something….off. Like he isn't fit to be co-captain, but he never gave you a reason or showed why he shouldn't be.

Conversations with curly were light, conversations with him were easy. He's a good man, takes responsibility. You make sure to let him know. Only lord knows what would happen if he started doubting himself, and no one wants to even take the risk.

You sigh and collect yourself, take a long hit of your weed pen and walk to the lounge. Picking up the clipboard to do evaluations. You and Anya switched off time and time. She discussed with you that she felt like she was here for no reason with nothing to do, she wanted to feel needed and like she was part of the crew. It didn't matter to you, though. Not like she gets part of your cut.

Looking around and seeing everyone, you'd wonder who would be your first victim. They all equally hated the evals, only being cooperative because Cap says so. You wince your eyes and see who's less busy. The side of your lips turn up and you look at swansea. You walk towards him, and it's almost as if you're his 6th sense, you can see how disinterested he is and it was really obvious when he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. It made you laugh.

“When are you going to register in your head that I am too old to be going crazy on a ship, y/n. These aren't-” “necessary, i heard you the first time..and all the other times. But protocol is protocol, relax, okay?” you sat in front of him on the couch and he lifted his head to look at you. “Have you been able to complete your mandated tasks as a mechanic efficiently and to your fullest capacity?” your eyes lifted from the clipboard. “The ship hasn't broken down has-” “swansea” you cut him off and sharpen your eyes. “Do you need me to-” “yeah yeah- i got it. Yes i have” you chuckle at his response and drop your clipboard in your lap. “You know that you make this 10 times harder and longer? Or do you just like giving me a hard time?”

“Honestly both, I try to get as many minutes away from daisuke. He makes the vein in my forehead pop out” you laugh at that and point at him with your black pen, “now we're getting somewhere” you cross your legs and continue the eval until it's over. Swansea reminded you of a bitter grandpa but secretly wants to see you succeed. You see how he cares for daisuke, even when he cusses him out. He cares enough to cuss him out. It's something to admire from afar.

Daisuke and swansea were the best duo in here. Curly and jimmy were kinda boring considering it was the grumpy x sunshine trope. You just wondered how jimmy had so much…power. Though he was co-captain, whenever he had a conversation with anyone, it's almost as if they just let him do what he wants to without consequence, like he's a toddler. You see how Anya instantly lowers her head and just submits to him, but you haven't asked or said anything, not only because it's not your place, but also since Anya just doesn't really talk to you.

You took note of how you've caught her watching from afar. You didn't wanna label her as envious, she was just shy, while you laughed and fit right in. you didnt want to feel bad for anya, it's not what she deserves. You'd wish she'd just put herself out there more and know that she's safe with you, and you wanted a bond with her- absolutely, but there was some kind of tension that you just couldn't grasp on.

She also had a conversation with you about how she didn't feel comfortable doing evaluations with jimmy. She told you about the disturbing comments he makes, and asked if he told you them to. He did. But most of the time you're too high to even pay attention to what he's talking about and end up just labeling good on all of them. Anya ended up furrowing her eyebrows and just walking away, you watched as she did so, she covered her face and her posture lowered. She cried.

“Daisuke! Eval. Are you ready?” you smiled and walked into the sleeping quarters. “Ah!” he exclaimed, fixing his pillow before fluffing his hair and standing up with an awkward smile on his face. “Uh..yeah sure” he said. You smiled and lifted your eyebrows “i thought i was the only one hiding things on this ship” “you are” “ha, ha” you tilted your head, “we can sit on my bed and do it, if you wanna” he offers, you let out a hum and say okay before sitting on the bed, your knees touching but you didn't put too much mind into it.

You dropped the clipboard on the side of the bed and he furrowed his eyebrows and gave you a puzzled look. “Aren't you gonna ask me questions?” “I'm starting to feel like it's just not needed. Not saying your not important or anything, but you are an intern. What tasks do you really have?” you let out a laugh, but looking at daisuke, he didn't like your answer. It was actually very clear he took offense to it. You bit your lower lip and crossed your legs, no longer touching knees with him. You clear your throat and widen your eyes for a split second before raising the clipboard. “Have you been able to do your mandated tasks as intern?” an awkward wide smile on your lips. “And what mandated tasks do i have?” he said. Petty. You thought, you let out a breath, “im sorry, daisuke. I apologize, I didn't mean it like that. Please forgive me”

“Show me what you're hiding,” he said, out of the blue. You give him a puzzled look. “How is that an even trade? I made a comment. We get outta here in a year, you'll lose track of time and forget it in 3 days. What I'm hiding can get me in trouble for the rest of my life ""do i look like a snitch to you?” he crossed his arms, you laughed, “Fine”. To that he smiled, you stood and went to your spot, lifting the pillow and revealing the goods.

He bit his lip and looked at you before squinting his eyes. “So you really fucking hate me, huh?” you cock your head back at his comment, confused you look at him, silently signalling for him to elaborate. “First you say I'm useless here, and now I found out that you're the one carrying the weed on the tulpar and they've been saying slick stuff to me. Wow, y/n. You're an asshole” he laughs. “Shit..fuck, youre right. Im sorry” you felt like a complete bully and an idiot, you put your palm on your face to hide your embarrassment. He shook his head, “you at least gonna share? The least you could do” he let out a small laugh, in an instinct you pulled out your pen and gave it to him, avoiding eye contact. “How does this even work?” he asked, holding it up and scanning it.

“You're joking…rich kid, I imagine you have all the friends in the world and have parties, and possibly have done something worse than this” he glared at your sentence, but you scooted closer to him and held the hand that was sticking up the pen. It was pink and bedazzled, “see this button right here? Press it while you suck- or breathe in whatever from here” you said, before looking back at him. He nodded his head and bit his lip, you let go and allowed him to take a hit from the pen. He awkwardly pulls it up to his lips, you watched as he wrapped his lips around it, silently cursing to himself in regret, not because he was taking a hit, but because he wrapped his lips on it not around it. The wetness from his mouth from the lord knows where is now on your pen that you will continue to hit. Not that you minded, his lips were soft and pink, he carried around a coca-cola flavored chapstick and used it, mostly when he was nervous.

You cocked your head to the side and watched him take the hit. “Dont kill yourself” you laugh, pulling it slowly from his lips. He immediately coughs, and you groan to see the wasted hybrid smoke enter the air, you sigh and wave so it disappears. “You gotta work on that” you mutter as he dies, falling over onto your pallet and banging the floor, his mouth open as he coughs. You laugh and pat his back, trying to help him out. He collects himself, “what the hell is going on?” curly asks, stepping in, your eyes widen and you cover the stash with the pillow before turning back to the captain.

“Choking on his spit, ha, you know how daisuke is” you do an innocent smile and he squints his eyes looking at daisuke. He only raises a thumb and scratches the back of his head. “Swansea said he wants to show you how to fix the vent, and if you make him wait any longer he's gonna ignore you for a month straight” “that's my cue, see you y/n. And I forgive you” he smiles and stands, walking past curly.

Curly eyes you, “done jimmy yet?”. “Don't think I want to, maybe you should?” “Of course” you smile at his acceptance, and hand him the clipboard as he walks to you. “Thank you cap, you're the best” you say with a genuine smile, he only smiles back before walking away. Everyone was doing their only thing so you decided to lay off and keep your pen and your copy of “Interview With The Vampire” by Anne Rice from some company.

[solarvrse]

LIMERENCE an atsumu miya x fem!reader fic 001. wrapped around your finger

synopsis ;

after a nasty breakup, an old friend helps you get your revenge. or alternatively, he finally gets a chance of calling you his, even if it’s just pretend.

content warnings swearing, ooc characters word count 1.6k

series m.list

MOVING WASN’T AN ENTIRELY NEW CONCEPT TO Y/N. She remembers packing up her life at the age of 12 and moving from the buzzing city life of Shinjuku to the quiet suburbs of Miyagi. Moving nearly 5 hours away by train from the only home she’s known since birth was something completely unknown to her. It was like being tossed into the deep end of a pool without really knowing how to swim. 

She remembered very little about the actual divorce, all she remembered was being told to pack her things, say goodbye to her friends, and that she and her mom would go live with obaasan for a while. 

Miyagi wasn’t an all too foreign place, she remembers spending summers at her grandmother’s house, picking fights with the boy next door, and crying any time he was mean. But going back after her parents divorce showed a new side of the people she thought she knew well. The people of Miyagi spoke differently, too. Even at age 12, she could catch the pitiful tones behind their words. The whispers between her obaasan and her friends‘.

“Poor girl, her mother ruined a perfectly fine marriage. She must be so broken.” They’d say. Truth be told, some of it was true. She didn’t feel particularly good about their separation, after all, who would?

But it was shades better than hearing the screaming matches that lasted well into the late hours of the night. It was definitely better than watching when one parent would stumble home completely wasted, appointing her as their makeshift therapist while the lingering smell of alcohol made her eyes water.

Even back then, when she was just a naïve kid who knew nothing about the world, she knew one thing for certain: her parents were not meant to be. She watched as the other girls her age clung to fantasies of love, exclaiming that their first love would their one and only. Talks of a true love made her head spin, hearing of someone that would never break their hearts made her nauseous. Even at that age, she knew that love like that only existed in fairytales—shiny and unattainable.

Maybe that’s why she wasn’t so disappointed when her 5th call went straight to voicemail.  

She had made sure to plan to move the one weekend he’d be free—the one weekend before volleyball consumed his every waking hour. Her chest tightened, nose burning as tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away, boxing away her feelings like the rest of her things.

A sudden knock at the door startled her, pulling her out of her thoughts and away from the task at hand. Her heart lept out of her chest, hope blooming in its place. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t forget.

She shot up, brushing the imaginary dust off her pants and fixing the stray pieces of damp hair that stuck to her skin. Her hands hesitated for a moment, smoothing over her clothes as if that would mask the nervous thrum in her chest.. Her shirt clung uncomfortably to her back from the effort of packing and the sweltering late-June heat, her arms ached from carrying boxes from room to room. But none of that matter now as beelined for the door, nearly tripping over a half-filled box of books.

“Shit.” She muttered, ignoring the mess she had made, opting to focus on getting the door instead. Her pulse quickened as she threw the door open, a hopeful smile gracing her face—only for it to vanish quickly. 

Disappointment.

She felt so stupid, of course he wouldn’t be here. It was rare for him to try and ever surprise her. She had gotten her hopes up for nothing.

Kenma and Yachi stood on her doorstep, staring back at her. Their expressions  similar to those of her obaasan’s friends. It would’ve been much less noticeable if they had tattooed ‘poor girl’ on their foreheads. 

The disappointment hit her harder than expected, maybe it was the knowing look in Yachi’s eyes that pushed her over the edge but she could feel new tears spring at the edge of her eyes. Before her eyes had a chance of betraying her, she reached out and pulled them both into a tight hug.

“Thank you for coming.” She muttered into Yachi’s soft,  blonde hair. She smelled sweet, like a warm vanilla latte. Y/n’s voice wavered, but she held on, letting Kenma pat her on the back a few times before weaseling out of the hug, allowing Yachi to hug her tightly.

“It really means a lot.”

Even though moving was an old friend at this point, she couldn’t help but feel like her heart was being ripped out. It had it’s consequences, it felt like a pattern. Call it premonition or a self-fulfilled prophecy but every time she’d move, every time she left a place behind, something else broke apart, too. Her parents marriage when she moved to Miyagi, the way she lost contact with some friends after coming to university, and her sense of belonging and the first break in her long-term relationship when she spent the semester abroad in California. And now, standing in her half-empty apartment—wishing he would just show up and not leave behind any more broken, empty promises.

Her door was still ajar by the time Hajime’s voice filled the apartment. 

“Didja little shits time me?” 

She turned to see him standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath but clearly indignant. She glanced at the item all three of them hunched over. Kenma’s phone screen displayed a stopwatch reading 7:49, seven minutes and forty-nine seconds. The three couldn’t help but burst out into giggles.

“Five minutes away my ass.” Kenma muttered, stopping the clock and taking back his phone. 

Despite herself, she chuckled, the sound soft but genuine. The warmth in her chest lingered even as the moments passed, a quiet reprieve from the chaos.

They all got to work, helping her pack up the last of her things, stripping her walls bare of everything but the hideous yellowing wallpaper she had come to love. Yachi and Iwaizumi helped her take the mattress and couch down to the van as Kenma finished packing the last of her books and research papers.

After a while of laboring around, she made her way to the kitchen, pouring everyone water into the stack of disposable cups she had bought the day before. All of her silver and glassware were already packed and hidden away in some brown cardboard box.

“How do you feel?” Yachi whispered, moving closer to her as the boys continued packing.

“About what?” 

“Moving to Osaka, of course.”

She glanced down at her hands, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “Ah, well, I’m kinda excited? But at the same time I'm sad that I’m leaving Bunkyō.”

“Whatcha excited for?” She could tell this was Yachi’s way of making sure she didn’t mull over any negative feelings that may start to brew.

“The research I’m gonna do.” She answered truthfully, “gonna be studying bilaterian sea creatures, they’re pretty cool. The research the professor does there’s pretty cool, she studies echinoderms.” 

“Echinoderms?”

“Oh you know, starfish, sea stars, sea urchins, the whole shebang. I’ve been fascinated by her work since I started looking at research opportunities, y’know.” She moved her hands as she spoke, was vaguely aware that Yachi’s plan had indeed worked, but she couldn’t care less. She was just excited to talk about the work she’d do in Osaka.

“That’s so cool! You’re gonna be amazing, I swear I’ll read all your research papers.”

Yachi’s excitement made her chuckle. Her encouragement made her heart feel lighter, even as she glanced around the room that was slowly emptying of its contents. The boys were almost done packing, their laughter and banter echoing around the almost-vacant room.

But as the final few items were tucked away and everyone began to pack their things, reality quickly began to settle back in.

The afternoon faded into a pink sky-ed evening, the night beginning to settle in, causing her worries to invade her mind. By the time the clock reached 9pm, everyone had already left, offering their goodbyes and reminding her to call them on her drive down to Osaka. All that remained for her in the morning was packing up the van and leaving.

She checked her phone for the umpteenth time, hoping–praying–for a message from her boyfriend, Tobio Kageyama. As expected, there was nothing but radio silence, the last text he sent at 6:32am. She tried to rationalize it, making up excuses for his behavior and what may have kept him. Surely he had a good excuse. Maybe he decided to practice–he always did get tunnel vision when it came to volleyball. 

For most of their relationship, she was able to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal, she’d remind herself. He was a rising star, a bigshot, and she appreciated his dedication. It was the biggest thing that drew her to him, she had never seen someone so driven.

With a heavy sigh, she lowered herself onto the mat on the floor, her makeshift bed for the night. Iwa and Yachi had already helped her pack the mattress and other heavy items into the van, leaving the apartment nearly bare. Resting her head in her hands, she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. The emotions she tried so hard to push down came back like a thundering storm. Broken sobs wracked her body, cutting through the thick, humid air of the quiet apartment.

Outside, the bustling city droned on like white noise, a backdrop to her attempt at calming herself down. She tried to reason with her heart, it wasn’t like he could spend every waking moment with her.

But still, was it too much to ask for a sliver of his time?

@heartmaddie @cherrysurf @sahrii @kameyyy @reocidal @v3nusplanetofluv @nobodybutnnoorr @kawoala @angeleilee (8/50)

© snoopysarchive

[moose-mousse]

Ok. I am going to let you in on a secret about how to make programming projects.

You know how people write really good code? Easy to read, easy to work with, easy to understand and very efficient?

By refactoring.

The idea that you write glorious nice code straight is an insane myth that comes from thinking tutorials is how people actually code.

That is because programming is just writing. Nothing more. Same as all other writing.

The hobbit is ~95000 words.

Do you think Tolkien created the Hobbit by writing 95 thousand words?

Of course not! He wrote many many times that. Storylines that ended up scrapped or integrated in other ways, sections that got rewritten, dialog written again and again as the rest of the story happened. Background details filled in after the story had settled down

Writing. Is. Rewriting.

Coding. Is. Refactoring.

Step 1 in programming is proof of concept. Start with the most dangerous part of your project ( danger = how little experience you have with it * how critical it is for your project to work )

Get it to do... anything.

Make proof of concept code for all the most dangerous parts of the project. Ideally there is only 1 of these. If there is more than 3 then your project is too big. ( yes, this means your projects needs to be TINY )

Then write and refactor code to get a minimum viable pruduct. It should do JUUUUUST the most important critical things.

Now you have a proper codebase. Now everytime you need to expand or fix things, also refactor the code you touch in order to do this. Make it a little bit nicer and better. Write unit tests for it. The works.

After a while, the code that works perfectly and never needs to be touched is hard to read. Which does not matter because you will never read it

And the code that you need to change often is the nicest code in the codebase.

TRYING TO GUESS AHEAD OF TIME WHAT PARTS OF THE CODE WILL BE CHANGED OFTEN IS A FOOLS ERRAND.

( also, use git. Dear god use git and commit no more than 10 lines at once and write telling descriptions for each. GIT shows WHAT you did. YOU write WHY you did it )

Is this how to make your hobby project?

Yes. And also how all good software everywhere is made.

[tekumaniac311]

A New Home: Part 4

Dogbite blinked at the response "What do you mean, Lean?" He asked the young Lemur. Lean sighed and began to explain.

"I'm from Rimba, it's a jungle planet, nothing special. I..ran away from home." Dogbite raised a brow "You ran away, what for?" Lean just looked to the side, avoiding eye contact "I dunno, maybe my family didn't like me, maybe i got hurt, maybe ignored, it doesn't matter."

Dogbite walked up and put his hand on Lean's shoulder "Hey, you got a place with us. Come on, their waiting." Lean's expression brightened, together they both arrived at the academy mess hall and joined the rest of the group. "Team, I wanna say I'm proud for each of you all for doing well in the exam. Prettybird, you showed your more than just a fashion and makeup fan, you know exactly what to do in case of injury or disease." Prettybird bowed and playfully blew a kiss "Thank you, Dogbite." Dogbite then turned to Leopardaisy and Berserkerine "Leopard, Berserk. Both of of you proved to be good fighters on the field, Leopard's reflexes and stealth with Berserks brawn and pain tolerance will prove effective." Leopardaisy pulled a peace sign "Hey, we do the best we can right?"

Dogbite then looked to FixFox "FixFox, you are hands down the best mechanic and inventor on the team. There's really nothing you can't seem to fix or create." FixFox smiled "Only limited by resources, Dogbite." She said with a chuckle, Dogbite turned to Mama and Lemur "Mama Mammoth and Lean Lemur, in the maze you both guided the team greatly and paid good attention to any hazards we were not aware of. Not to mention you, Mama make fantastic meals and Lean shown good communications despite his drawbacks." Mama giggled at Dogbite's response while Lemur just looked shyly "Thanks boss."

"And finally, Drago." Dogbite turned to Drago "Your skills and level headed attitude make you a great second in command. You obey my orders without question--" Drago stopped him "There were a few occasions, plus I think you firmly need a little bit of level headed nature."

Dogbite just laughed it off "And your a comedian to, who knew?" Together the 8 critters held up their respective drinks "This will be a helluva team. One day i assure you guys, we're gonna be the ones that will beat the Prototype." With that they clinked their drinks together and enjoyed their meal

THE END

AU by @onyxonline

Characters by me

[zaunbinary]

it’s so funny to me when it gets pointed out the strings on jinx shirt got removed when she was in jail and people are like “omg that’s like the equivalent of getting your shoelaces taken” but she still has her long ass hair. like she could so easily hurt herself with her hair in more ways than the strings on her shirt.

what i would’ve done is had enforcers forcefully cut her hair off. and no this isn’t just a “piltover evil!!11!” take so listen.

she’s in jail not a mental hospital. she went in willingly yes but it’s STILL jail and that’s STILL jinx. the jinx piltovers been ruthlessly hunting the jinx that bombed the council that jinx. they wouldn’t care or notice the change in her behavior because they didn’t know her enough to know how significant it is also they wouldn’t care because again she fucking bombed them!! jinx’s hair means a lot. the people who saw her as a symbol dyed their hair to match hers to the point piltover saw blue hair as a threat. jinx herself points to her braids to identify herself. it’d mean something if they were the ones to take it. and for jinx personally, all the people she loved and lost touched that hair, helped her braid and style it. her mother, silco, and most recently isha- she carried them all with her in her hair. having that forcefully cut from her would truly leave her with nothing. yes her cutting it herself is “symbolic” because it’s her choosing to let go, but again it’s silly they let her keep it while also taking her strings because it’s like. they Know she’s going to try to hurt herself. the enforcers wouldn’t even see what they’re doing as more harmful than good. they’d think they’re helping her and look how kind they are for not letting their enemy kill herself <3 they are so nice looking out for her <3

this would make her new really bad haircut in the end also mean something. despite the circumstances put upon her, she’s STILL jinx and she’ll still find a way to express herself with her hair. ekko helping her fix it, her building herself up again, it could be a little moment or something. and it would explain why it looks so fucking bad in the end because they were rushed on time and had limited options. i hate her final hair style im sorry

i’m not trying to nitpick every little thing about s2 ep9 but it becomes really hard to ignore these small details in the show that used to thrive on picking up small details when you notice them

[alfredojesta]

JASON THE TOYMAKER

MANSION HEADCANONS PT. 1

This includes information about his past and present. Everything here is canon to my AU. I'll be making a second post to cover his relationships.

CW: child abuse, misogyny, gore (below the cut)

GENERAL HEADCANONS: HERE

For context, Liver's Jason is the one we use for our shared AU. I just like analysing the fuck out of him. :)

✧ Jason's room is on the third floor, end of the hall. His room is a workshop. Nothing else. His door is one of the only doors that aren't plastered with decorations. It's just plain wood.

✧ He owns a flat in the city, as well as a local toy-shop. But he takes orders from all over the world, delivering toys via his "blue door".

✧ Jason isn't the traditional proxy. He doesn't work for Slenderman, nor is he "under" him in anyway—Of course, he follows the rules of the mansion, but that's because Slender grants him residency there.

✧ Slenderman brought Jason in as a way to prevent his enemies from getting to him first. They signed a contract, moving Jason from London to Toronto where the other proxies resided.

✧ Under Slenderman's watch, Jason would practically be protected from everything. It was a golden opportunity. The contract stated that Jason would be given his own workshop at the mansion. Not only that, but his own bathroom and closet—a luxury only Jason has. Because he didn't sign the contract otherwise.

✧ (In his own words, sharing anything with the other proxies sounds disgusting. Gods forbid he would ever do that!)

✧ Jason is a soul collector, meaning he must consume souls for survival. He acquires his souls from the women he "fixes", and from Candy Pop (Jason fixes his hammer, and if he needs souls, Candy Pop is obligated to hand some to him).

✧ The only way for his toys to be given an ability, or living forms, is if they have a soul infused with it. But, not all souls can be fixed to all objects. Jason will have to make several adjustments to both the soul and its vessel before they connect.

✧ Jason is a germaphobe and refuses to get any blood on him. He's always wearing a pair of gloves. When he "kills" victims, he's really only harvesting their souls. Their embalmed corpses are then beautified for show.

✧ Because he's a soul collector, he has great intuition when it comes to reading people. It goes well with his social expertise.

✧ Jason has always been charming. Good at masking in public. He treats socialising as a game, predicting what someone will say and choosing the correct dialogue option to get his desired result. Socialising can be exhausting since he's always putting on an act. (Some might even say he's autistic...) (Because he is!)

✧ Jason is polite to the others. He remains respectful and civil, coming across as friendly to all—if not a little monotonous and bland. He's shockingly a good listener when he's not held up with orders. But, he tends to only speak up if the conversation pertains to himself.

✧ If Jason is provoked otherwise, he'll do what he can to fight back without ruining his reputation. In serious cases, he lashes out. He finds ways to get back on top, painting himself as the wronged. It always works, but certain people have learned to be suspicious of him.

✧ He speaks formally. Never swears, unless it's using the lord's name in vain. His vocabulary is large, but he doesn't speak bombastically. Jason reads a lot of books when he has the time to. He enjoys classic literature, but refuses to touch anything modern.

✧ Jason is rather awful with technology. He knows the basics (such as texting, taking photos, answering emails), but he's the type to use a real encyclopedia instead of looking something up on the internet. The transition from the Victorian Era into the 21st Century was horrid for Jason, given he was in the Under World for most its development. When he got out in the late 1900s, everything was different.

✧ His hair is naturally wavy, but he straightens it every morning. His demonic form tends to poof his hair back up, which angers him even more. Only a few people have seen Jason's demonic form. He hides it well.

✧ He loves doing his makeup and he can't live without it. He would do his nails but they're all short, chipped, or on the verge of tearing off. Jason's fashion sense is classy, though he has somewhat of a ring-master flair. He definitely wears heels. 6'3" and greedy. His femininity is something he's insecure about, but won't ever admit it.

✧ His cane was given to him by Splendorman, who believed Jason was a ringmaster like him. Jason decided to keep it because it went well with his outfit. But also... it helped him walk... He never knew how bad standing 24/7 was for him until he got that cane.

✧ Jason liked circuses because he'd see them on newspapers when he was younger. But he was never allowed to go. Nowadays, he hates clowns. He thinks they're so fucking annoying. Jason will hang himself before he has to go to another shitty circus show.

✧ Jason's flat is decorated with a patch-work aesthetic. Not out of choice, but because Mr. Glutton keeps chewing on the furniture. He also chews on Jason's clothes, which is why they have stitches and patches. Jason has tried to get Mr. Glutton to stop, but that damn snake won't listen.

✧ For Liquorice, Red Mouse, and Mr. Bunny, Jason crochets fake food for them, which he keeps in his fridge. His fridge lacks anything else. There's just lemons, sweetener, milk, and peas in the freezer. He doesn't have a spice-rack anywhere, and if he did, it'd only have table salt and sugar.

✧ Jason likes to craft furniture himself. Everything in his flat is also painted by him. The cabinets have designs on them. So do his pots and pans; dinnerware and cutlery. Jason isn't allowed to paint the ceiling, but if he lived in a house, he would.

✧ Jason is obsessed with his image to a frightening degree.

✧ Jason started off as a lonely boy with discouraging parents (abusive father, and a desperate mother). He only had Amelia, whom he clung onto. Despite Amelia being popular, she was soon isolated after becoming his friend. Jason was bullied by the others for not fitting in. He was called names, physically assaulted, and ostracised.

✧ The bruises piled up. From school and from his father, who was adamant on "toughening" him up. At the age of 10, Jason sprained his wrist. He learned how to use his left-hand in this time. Jason's father resented him for his aspirations. For his "feminine" traits, and lack of social skills. Jason bottled up his feelings, deciding it'd be better to live with them than be vulnerable.

✧ Jason was their only son, but he couldn't live up to their expectations. Jason was exposed to domestic violence between his parents, who'd often argue about him. It started to sound like it was his fault that nothing was going right for the family. And maybe it was.

✧ Jason's misogynistic ideals come from his father. He learned to internalise his teachings, even though he never liked his father. Jason is never outwardly misogynistic (in fact, he tends to speak out against sexism), but he holds the women in his life beneath him. Jason also has internalised homophobia, but that's directed toward himself.

✧ Amelia's family supported Jason when he was kicked out by his parents. He was able to rent a little flat! And after getting his shit together, he started up his business. Amelia was there to encourage him and give him anything he needed for the shop.

✧ Jason wasn't used to so much "love" and attention. There would be crowds building up on the streets of London, waiting for his shop to open. People his age wanted to be around him instead of picking on him for being weird. They'd give him their numbers, invite him to social events, actually show interest in him. Jason was bewildered, but not opposed to it in the slightest.

✧ NGL HE DEFINITELY ATTRACTED MILFS BECAUSE OF ALL THE MUMS THAT CAME IN WITH THEIR KIDS.

✧ Jason develloped issues with his image around this time, believing he had to be absolutely perfect no matter what. If he saw even the slightest flaw, it'd drive him mad. He perfected his makeup, his hair. His clothes were always ironed and fitted. He was a picky eater, only consuming what would keep him in shape. Jason's routine is rigid. He doesn't let anything disturb it.

✧ Amelia called him out several times, stating that she should be allowed to make friends if Jason's allowed to make friends. Jason has always told her that they're the only good people in the world, so it made no sense for him to go out and befriend others. Jason reassured Amelia that his loyalty is with her, and he's only putting up a good front for business.

✧ That made Amelia even angrier, because now she knew Jason was faking his personality. It drove her the wrong way, but Jason would manipulate her into thinking she's overreacting.

✧ The more people that "loved" him, the more Jason was pressured to keep that "love" on him. Over the years, the pressure became too much. He overworked himself to death. Kept himself in the workshop day and night. So focused on working, he neglected other aspects of his life (such as himself and Amelia).

✧ It was difficult to balance his work-life and his self-care, but his work-life was so much more important. Without it, he wouldn't have that attention he so desperately craved. Jason only forced himself back to his flat when he realised he had to bathe. In these moments, he'd hate himself for being occupied with his work to a point of abandoning his routine. He was still human back then.

✧ Amelia would often be with him at the workshop, but her company stopped helping. Jason's patience thinned, and he started to lash out at her if she hummed, breathed too loudly, or even moved at all. Their final argument cut Amelia from his life entirely. Jason was so disgusted with himself, but he kept thinking Amelia would come back.

✧ Weeks passed, and Amelia didn't come back. Jason couldn't focus on his work. There was that nagging voice in the back of his head that told him to go find Amelia. He couldn't ignore it. He knew he had to do something. So he crafted the music box for her. Went to her house to apologise. He looked better than he ever looked that day.

✧ Jason poured his heart out to Amelia. He told her much he missed her, and how sorry he felt for hurting her. He promised he'd never do anything like that again, reassured her that his priority will become their friendship. He held out the music box. A beautiful gift. The start of new beginnings. And Amelia refused to accept his apology—

✧ What?

✧ ...She refused? That doesn't make sense. Jason worked so hard on that. They'd been friends for so long. How could she just drop him like that? Amelia shoved the music box back into his hands, yelling at him to never show his face again. Jason couldn't believe it. Did she just forget everything Jason did for her?

✧ Jason stood at the entrance. Everything was quiet. He lost her for good.

✧ Jason went back to his workshop. Beyond stressed, malnourished, and lacking proper sleep. He was angry, too, but he wasn't sad. He couldn't be sad about it, only frustrated that Amelia would be so unreasonable.

✧ He was spiralling, so close to losing it when a little girl knocked on the shop. It snapped him back to reality. He's a famous toymaker, right! People still "love" him. That's what he worked for. He doesn't need Amelia anymore...

✧ Oh, but the shop was closed that day. The girl was on her own, and it wasn't an especially busy evening. Jason put on a friendly facade and welcomed her in, but warned her the shop was closed, and she needed to be quick.

✧ The girl took her time. It bothered Jason. It bothered him a lot. What was she doing? The girl was about eight years old. Maybe her mum or dad would come get her soon, Jason hoped. But no.

✧ She finally picked out what she wanted. The music box—No, that's not for sale. Jason took it back, telling her to find something else. But the girl insisted upon it. Jason didn't have time for any of this. He had to go back to work. She continued to bargain with him, and Jason was so close to losing his patience. That music box was for Amelia—but, why was Jason trying to save it in the first place? Amelia refused it, so he should just give it to that child, right? Gods, everything is too complicated. He's stressed out of his damn mind and nothing's going right for him anymore. And that whiny child kept on crying about wanting that stupid box—

✧ Jason couldn't think.

✧ A chord in him snapped. He became victim to his own anger. Jason killed the little girl on accident—mallet to the head. He didn't know what he did until she tumbled back. The music box broke apart as it fell from her hands.

✧ Jason dropped the mallet. There was blood splattered on his face. There was blood. On his face. Jason looked down. The child was dead.

✧ Jason knew he had to dispose of the body. Everything was at stake. He could dismember her corpse, hide it in Mr. Glutton. That'd work.

✧ But he first had to lock up the store. Cover the windows, and bring the corpse to the back. Still, he couldn't bring himself to start sawing. Jason was disgusted with his actions. He had sobbed for what seemed like hours, unable to get himself together. Even as Jason began to dismember the body, he took multiple breaks, having to calm himself down from the horrific sight. Hyperventilating and nauseous. He had no one to blame but himself.

✧ But it wasn't his fault.

✧ It was the little girl's fault. It was Amelia's fault. It was the kids at the playground. It was his mother. And it was his god damn father.

✧ When Jason finally hid the body—he didn't know how much time had passed. He looked like a mess. He wanted to throw up. He hadn't slept in days. Hadn't eaten. He didn't want to leave the workshop. Even though it smelt like rotten flesh and blood.

✧ Things got worse when a customer knocked at the door. It must have been an opening day. Jason didn't want to answer. He didn't want to do anything anymore. But it'd look suspicious if he didn't.

✧ Amelia was there. Jason said nothing, processing her appearance, wondering if she was even real. But Amelia only came to return the old gifts he gave to her. Jason thought now would be the perfect time to win her back. If he told her his pitiful story—about how he was so stressed, he took it out on a stranger—she'd feel sorry for him. She'd realise how unlike him it is, and she'd finally forgive him.

✧ That didn't happen. Instead, Amelia was scared. She asked him where the stranger was. Who was it? Where did this happen? And then Jason broke down, admitting to everything. He begged her to stay because he couldn't take it anymore. But Amelia refused. Heartbreak was quick to transform into anger.

✧ The two of them got into a small fight. It's here that Jason dies, actually! Because he's so weak, Amelia easily knocked him to the floor. Amelia didn't want Jason to live anymore. She was scared for his future. He could grow up to be someone awful. To prevent him from killing more girls, and abusing more women, Amelia sliced him down the chest with a saw.

✧ Unfortunately, he didn't die. But he was sent to the Under World—which is like a purgatory in my AU.

✧ Jason is basically cursed, in a way. He woke up in the Under World as a vengeful demon. He lived there for a couple of years before he was sent back. I say he's cursed because Jason has all the abilities he could want, but it'll never be enough. He's trapped in a cycle. He sabotages his own life by just being himself. I'd love to go more in-depth on this analysis one day, but for the sake of simplicity, this is all I'm saying here.

✧ The scar Amelia gave him never heals. Jason always has to sew it back up. No one knows he has the scar. He knows it's his only flaw and he despises it.

✧ His heart is NOT a music box. It's just rotten, like his blood! It beats quietly. Very faint unless someone goes right up to it, but he'd probably punch that someone if they tried.

(dividers by dollywons) ☆

long post! i apologise. i love him very much, and this doesn't even scratch all of him. there's still A LOT more i have to say. like a shit ton. feel free to send any questions because i love yapping!!! :D hhehehe

[mr-hopkins]

Rhythm of His Heart ❤️ ~ Heesung (Enhypen)

Synopsis : Heesung performs a song that he wrote for his first love. Luckily the girl he fell for is in the crowd. To make sure he delivered his feelings to her, he meets her backstage. As things heat up, Heesung builds the strength to make the first move.

Read the rest below 👇��

The spotlight hit Heesung, the stage lights a blinding white. He took a deep breath, the familiar thrum of his guitar a grounding force against the nervous flutter in his stomach. Below him, the auditorium was a sea of faces, but only one mattered. He scanned the crowd, his eyes finally settling on her, sitting a few rows back, a shy smile gracing her lips.

He began to play, his fingers dancing across the fretboard. The melody was simple, a soft acoustic ballad he'd written himself, pouring all his unconfessed feelings into the lyrics. He sang of stolen glances, shared laughter, and the way her presence seemed to illuminate his world.

Heesung closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him. He imagined her beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as they listened to the rain falling outside. He imagined holding her hand, tracing the delicate curves of her fingers.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her. She was singing along softly, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of admiration and something else, something he desperately hoped mirrored the emotions swirling within him. As the song ended, the applause erupted. Heesung bowed, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, to tell everyone how he felt. But the words caught in his throat, leaving him breathless and longing.

Backstage, after the show, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, Heesung rushed to the green room. He spotted her sitting on a worn-out couch, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue.

"You were amazing," she said, her voice soft as a whisper. "That was… incredible." He grinned, feeling a warmth spread through him. "You think so?"

"I know so," she insisted, her eyes sparkling. "I've never heard you sing like that before."

"I… I wanted to impress you," he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

She laughed, a melodious sound that made his heart skip a beat. "You did. You definitely did."

The air between them crackled with unspoken words. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin against his. Instead, he settled for sitting beside her, their shoulders brushing.

"So," he began, his voice barely a murmur, "how was your day?"

"It was… okay," she replied, her gaze fixed on the floor. "A little boring, actually."

"Well," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I think I can fix that."

He leaned closer, his breath fanning her cheek. "Maybe," he suggested, "we could celebrate with… ice cream?"

Her eyes widened. "Ice cream?"

"But not just any ice cream," he continued, his voice a seductive drawl. "We could go to that new place downtown, the one with all the crazy flavors."

She giggled, her eyes twinkling. "That sounds amazing."

He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above hers. "Maybe," he whispered, his voice husky, "we could celebrate in a different way too." She tilted her head, her breath catching in her throat.

Just as their lips were about to meet, the door burst open. The other members of Enhypen, a mischievous glint in their eyes, tumbled into the room.

"Whoa- what's going on here?" Jay teased, his eyebrows raised suggestively.

Heesung and the girl jumped apart, their faces flushed. "Nothing," Heesung mumbled, avoiding eye contact. "Oh really?" Jake drawled, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Because it looked like something was definitely going on." The rest of the members erupted in laughter, leaving Heesung and the girl flustered and speechless. Heesung shot her a sheepish grin. "I guess we'll have to continue this celebration another time." She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I think that's a good idea."

He leaned in and quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek, his heart pounding against his ribs. The members whooped and hollered, their teasing good-natured. Heesung, however, couldn't help but feel a thrill course through him at the idea of finally letting his feelings take charge. Promising to never let you go.

Thank you for reading!!

Do suggest who you'd like me to write about next <3

[sanccharine]

damnation in disguise

pjo au

pairing: ??? x child of ares!reader

genre: action

word count: 3.9k

warnings: descriptions of blood and injuries, includes violence, murder and gore – please don’t read if you are uncomfortable !

summary: why was everyone following you? monsters. satyrs. gods. you couldn’t catch a break.

a/n: thanks to indigo (@eternallyghosting) for fixing up my english, it was horrendous prior to her witchcraft

Shoving away the meek satyr and watching as he crumpled to the ground should have made you feel remorseful.

But you were bleeding. But also bloodied. And exhausted. And worst of all, angry. 

“I told you to stop following me around,” you said over your shoulder, stopping at the end of the alley, careful not to step onto the pavement. Hiding in the shadows and peering onto the street. 

You only stopped because something wasn't right. Cornered in this alley with a ginormous butchered boar and a nervous satyr behind you wasn’t your idea of a typical day. Although you could argue you don’t have or know such a thing as a typical day.

Your typical days had stopped as soon as you ran away from home. Maybe even before then. Maybe you had no idea what a typical day was even like. 

This was the life of a demigod.

No, what bothered you was the sense of being watched. And to make matters worse, you were unable to pinpoint from where or what it was that watched you. You didn’t like it… though you could argue again that you didn’t like many things. 

The streets tonight were quiet. You couldn’t really call it night anymore as the first tendrils of light had begun to brighten the sky. Despite the early hours, the sun was nowhere in sight, only the full moon casting a picturesque glow over the lonely street. Somewhere far down the alley, you found a drunkard stumbling his way back home. But apart from him and the rare taxi that zoomed past, you were completely alone, save for the dead boar and feebly bleating satyr. So, who was watching you?

You knew you weren’t just imagining things. In your life, gut feelings were almost ninety-nine percent correct. Especially yours. So you weren’t in the habit of ignoring them when they’ve always guided you down the right path. 

Toying with the growing splinters on the handle of your double-bitted axe, you watched the street with a steely gaze. Not minding the blood threatening to soak deep into the very wood of your axe. Not minding the slight ache from where your arm locks into your shoulder. Not minding that your axe needed a new handle on top of needing to be sharpened. It was still a lethal weapon, especially in your hands. 

“Reveal yourself,” you said. More of a whisper into the night but it was still a command nonetheless. 

“I don’t think that is smart—”

“Come on!” you said, anger seeping into your skin readily like the blood did into your pores. 

That’s when you noticed the scent. Acrid, pungent, sharp. Like acid. 

You had to breathe through your mouth to avoid the burning sensation down your nose, though that only made your throat itch and your eyes tear up. The grip on your axe tightened until the wood hurt your palm, you were ready to swing… but unfortunately, you knew you shouldn’t. 

“Don’t—”

“I know, satyr,” you grit out, before asking once again, “Show yourself!” 

A blinding light appeared, akin to the headlights of a car. Yet, it was directly opposite you, perpendicular to the street. Then you supposed it was another monster, perhaps with glowing eyes. However, when the lights only grew in size, covering your vision in white, you knew who it was. 

“Look away,” the satyr behind you said. Almost pleading, if you could call its weak bleating that. “Please.”

With your free hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, you relented. Merely hiding your eyes would do nothing. So you turned your whole head behind, your torso and most of your body moving along, but with your feet rooted in the same position. Ready to swing… even if it was a god. 

“Easy, child,” a young voice called out. Of course, her appearance was just that… an appearance. A veil the gods used to hide, from you, and from themselves. The voice matched. “Look at me.” 

Blinking away the blind spots in your eyes, you slowly turned to come face-to-face with the Goddess of the Hunt herself. Artemis.

“You’re following me too?” was the first thing you asked. 

“Watch it, kid,” a new voice spoke from behind the goddess. 

For the first time, you saw a hunter of Artemis. Like you’d heard from the satyr that followed you, she wore a silver jacket and a circlet… something to assign her as the goddess’ right hand or the like. She was beautiful, all regal-like. Maybe she was a princess before she swore to hunt with Artemis, yet whoever she was, you knew her looks deceived her true age. While she looked not that much older than you, there was no guessing her real age. The same way Artemis took the appearance of a young child, looking even younger than yourself, when she was in fact not mortal at all. 

However, what you should have been really focused on was the silver arrowhead, nocked and pointed at your head. Despite all your prowess in battle, even you knew you’d be dead before you could even decide to swing your axe. While it made you hesitant to fight, it didn’t really scare you. 

The satyr let out a scared bleat while Artemis only chuckled, her hand raising to tell her lap dog to lower her bow. “It is fine, they are always like this.” 

You glared in equal measure at the hunter, who huffed out a bit before lowering her bow. Though her arrow was still nocked, all she needed to was raise it again and let it soar. 

“You sent the boar?” you jutted your head over your shoulder and Artemis leaned to your left to peer at it. 

“It was our hunt,” the goddess chuckled again before returning to look at you. “But it would seem someone butchered it.” 

“You sent it on purpose—”

“Watch it!” the hunter said again, almost hissing at the same time the satyr bleated out your name and hurried to the Artemis’ side. He began bowing over and over again, muttering apologies on your behalf. 

You only rolled your eyes, it was an honest question. Nothing of this sort was a coincidence in your life. 

“Not this time, child,” the goddess smiled, “but you’ve proven yourself once again. It is no simple task, slaying my boar. That too, alone.”   

You only stared at her, already predicting the question before she could ask it. 

“My offer still stands,” Artemis said. “Swear to me and join my hunters. I will bless you. I will protect you.” 

“And my answer still stands,” you reply, “I do not want to be your lackey.”

“M’lady, give me the chance and I will—” Artemis only raised her hand again to stop her lieutenant from shooting straight through your eye like you were the game they hunted. 

“Your father—”

“Where is he?” you asked and Artemis frowned, no doubt noting your contempt. 

“I am not here on his behalf,” she quickly corrected herself. “But he has aided you more than he is allowed to—”

“He’s pulling a lot of strings only to not show up?” you spat out, unable to resist the contempt souring your tongue. “All of these tricks, blessings, and gifts… offers of protection… for what? Afraid to speak to me?”

For that last question, you looked up at the sky. You knew no god appreciated that. 

The satyr beside Artemis only covered his face with both hands, almost crying. The hunter looked appalled. But Artemis only chuckled, again.

“You are lucky to still be standing here, child,” she said with a smile, it was almost warm. 

“I don’t know about luck,” you say dryly, raising your free hand to gesture from your head to your knee. Almost every part was coated in crimson that was drying up. 

“No, then, not luck. It is your father. He protects you, like many gods and goddesses are willing to do so—”

“If I listen to them, right?” you ask and Artemis’ smile drops. “Help them? Swear to them?” 

When you use her own words, she sighs. “Get to the camp, child. It is not far. If you will not accept direct protection, then at least do not be foolish and decide not to be amongst others like yourself.”

You wanted to defy her. Again. Like you have the gods. And your own father over the last year or so. But you were also exhausted. You cannot escape this. That is what your mother had said. This is your life. This is who you are. A demigod.

And that won’t change no matter how much you denied it. 

“Nothing will change.” It was a statement, because it was true. 

Artemis gave you a look, an expression almost foreign on the goddess’ face. Something like concern or pity, but whatever it was supposed to be, you knew it was genuine. 

“This is your life, child,” she said. “Your fate… it cannot be changed.”

“Right,” you let out a sigh.

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you turned to the satyr. He looked up at you, his hands just slightly lowering from his face. You didn’t have to say the words for him to understand. His whole face seemed to light up… no doubt, because of the rising sun, nothing else. He straightened himself and then bowed to the goddess in gratitude. He also pulled out a little sapling from his shoulder bag. Why he would carry such a thing was beyond you, but he presented it to the goddess and she accepted with a nod. 

“Am I supposed to give you something too?” you asked, half-mocking but half-genuine. 

“You could begin with giving respect, kid,” the hunter said, scornfully. 

“Watch it,” you said with a scorn of your own. Her face morphed into a deeper sneer but Artemis lightly pushed the hunter behind her. 

“Control your emotions,” Artemis said calmly. “You are not acting yourself.” 

The hunter looked at her goddess, a little taken aback for a moment. Almost insulted at the scolding before realizing it wasn’t a scolding, but a warning. Then the hunter looked at you. As if looking at you in a new light. 

“I understand, m’lady,” the hunter bowed and Artemis chuckled. 

“Can’t help it, can you?” you shrugged, not necessarily to mock them. 

You were being honest. There was no controlling the subconscious power, at least you hadn’t figured out how to control it just yet. But it was like a mist around you, provoking people into frustration and anger just by being in your mere presence. Though you doubted you needed such power from your father, something told you would have managed to do that even without being a child of Ares. 

Taking a step back, the tension leaving the hunter’s body was visible. Even more so when she didn’t respond to your question. 

“I would heal you, but I fear you would not accept it,” Artemis said with something like another warm smile, this time more genuine than the last. 

“I’ll live.”

“And you have,” she nods. 

There was a silence between the four of you as the sun finally rose. Artemis watched the sky lighten and the world awaken with that kind smile of hers. 

“The gods watch you,” she was still smiling as she said it, but you knew what it was. A warning.

You nodded, reverent for the first time as you bowed. “I know, m’lady.” 

You are not without respect. Or without order. Or manners. 

There just haven’t been reasons for you to give that to anyone. It was all unearned. And you’re sure the gods knew you thought so. But they have yet to smite you down. Like she said, it was your fate. You were still… needed. 

With another bow, you turn to the mutilated boar. “I offer my kill to you, Lady Artemis. Please accept my hunt.” 

It was no sacrifice or offering. But merely a challenge you intercepted. 

Artemis chuckled and when you looked at her eyes, they were glowing silver faintly, and for a moment it looked like the sky darkened. She’d accepted. 

“Your journey to camp will be successful, child,” you nod at her call. There was a faint tingling in your fingertips. That acrid smell again, sharper than earlier. “But not easy.” 

It was finally your turn to chuckle. 

Artemis had been right. 

The trip to Camp Half-Blood was far from easy. Having survived alone for a year, fending off monsters, you thought it would be smoother… but it was as if the universe decided you weren’t supposed to make it to the camp. 

Every street, every turn, every corner had something waiting for you. This went further than a challenge or test. If it was testing anything, it was testing your patience. Your satyr—protector, he called himself ironically—was a nervous wreck. Though you surmised it was you who he was nervous of and not the monsters you faced. 

On the way, he offered his meals to you—of course, the very rare actual foods and not soda cans or plastic bags—but you told him he could save it for himself. You preferred to steal wallets from non-assuming tourists and get yourself some proper meals… snacks from vending machines. 

Restaurants always took too long and the wait made you antsy. Your protector didn’t approve of the method, and never had in the past year, but he had become tolerant of your behaviour and you of his. 

Of course, he was not completely useless… that sounded harsh. But you couldn’t help but feel somewhat protective, even if you hated the feeling. He was always shaking, jumpy, a well of anxiety trotting on goat legs. 

In the rare times that neither of you could sleep or bear the silence of the woods you trekked through, you would let him prattle on about the camp. Not only had you deprived yourself of a sanctuary for the past year, but also him of a home as he chased after you. Raving about the strawberry fields and the woods around his home where some council was held, all of that seemed to calm his trembling. So you let him talk, not necessarily listening but not necessarily ignoring him either. It was no trouble. Besides, you don’t think he cared if you listened or not… he’d learned you’re not a conversationalist. 

But despite his disposition, it was clear why he was chosen to guide you to this camp. Scared as he was, he stood his ground. Pulling out his flute? Pipes? Whatever it was to cast magic and spells. Not your preferred weaponry, but it did help in battle most times. His keen sense of smell did steer you clear of monsters on the main roads and also guided you through the woods. Without him, you would be running circles around these trees. He also found a clearing with running water for you to get yourself at least slightly cleaned up before heading to camp. 

While it was appreciated, it was useless. Most of your injuries were surface level, closing up on their own or scabbing over. You were able to clean the dirt and grime from underneath your nails and the dried blood from your skin. In the process, you found more bruises and scars scattered across your body. Your reflection looked foreign to your own eyes, you’d aged so much in a year. Eyes darker, sunken into your cheeks, sharper and narrowed permanently. Lines across your forehead and between your eyebrows, etched into your skin in a way that no amount of rubbing seemed to erase. Skin a bit marred from the sun, lips chapped and dry, though those were less important. It still made you frown. Shaking your head you looked away, a hand coming down to splash away the reflection. 

Then it was the matter of your clothes. The true uselessness of water on fabric drenched and soaked in blood. Your jacket was your test trial… no amount of scrubbing could erase the splatters. So instead you just decided to wash it in the water for the sake of freshness rather than spotlessness. Your protector nearly bleated himself into an early grave and excused himself when he saw you cleaning your clothes. He was so strange. What else did he think you were going to do? 

After the clearing, it was the worst of it all. 

The satyr had mentioned earlier that the camp was protected and being surrounded by woods it was more likely to have many hidden monsters. It was only a matter of when you’d come across one. 

There were three of them. Spindly and coiling, snake-like. Perhaps reptilian but not exactly. Midnight coloured, a rotund head with what you assumed was tendrils of who knows what. Instead of a tail, however, they had legs like a forked tongue, unsure whether they wanted to slither across the ground or walk with their disjointed bones. 

Your protector said something. The name of the monsters perhaps. Not that it registered in your ears. You were already charging towards them. 

For the most part, you were impervious to attacks, though it was a power that seemed to be selective. You still hadn’t figured that power out either. But you took your chances, you always did. And while injuries were bad, you figured they would eventually heal on their own. 

So you threw up your free hand to block one of the monsters while swinging at the other. The third chased after the satyr, but he just ran around playing his instrument, surprisingly fast given the terrain. You supposed the goat legs helped. 

Using your bare hand was a terrible mistake. The tendrils weren’t tendrils. They were jaws, with tiny rows of teeth, latching onto your skin like leeches. And just like leeches, they tore at your skin when you pried them off. A blood-curdling scream left your throat grating and burning, sending the nearby birds scattering from the woods in a flock. 

Tendon… you saw the tendons of your forearm. Skin peeling like a wrapper from where it should have been covering your muscles. It wasn’t the pain that had rendered your arm useless, it was the shock. In fact, the pain barely registered at this moment. It fell next to your side, like a rock in the water. Immobile and shredded. 

Panic was beginning to creep in… it was something you couldn’t afford at the moment. You had to eviscerate these monsters before they did you. 

Blinking away the tears and the faint growing sensation of immobility from your injured arm, you swung your axe with a grunt. Blade cutting clean through the neck of the monster, disintegrating into dust right in front of you. 

Your head spun and your ankle rolled on uneven ground. But you turned to the monster that had sunken its maw in you. Tearing it off from you seemed to hurt it as much as you. Its screeching was unbearable, its head gnawing at the ground. You had to kill it. 

The blood loss made your steps falter and your vision blur, but your aim was good enough. Raising the axe above your head, you brought it down to its neck. Your knees buckled when your axe hit the ground, disintegrating the monster. One more, there was one more. 

Blinking away the tears, you looked up. Your heart stopped. 

There it was. The entrance to the camp. If the arch with the name wasn’t a dead giveaway, it was the growing crowd of orange humanoid blurs. Scrunching your eyes again, you turned to find your satyr. 

He was still running around, heading near you. Swinging the axe to a tree, you pulled yourself up, releasing a sound that was between a grunt and a whine. Your strength was depleting, that much was clear when you tried to keep tugging at your axe to pull it free from the bark. It wouldn’t budge. 

Your voice said something. You were sure. But you doubt it was comprehensible because your protector, even with his keen senses, only looked confused. Frustrated, you yelled what could be your last word. 

“Move!” 

And just as he turned at the last minute, you pulled out the axe, the weight of the swing guiding your attack more than your strength. Your axe unevenly lodged itself into the body of the monster, its head still writhing trying to get at you, but you stumbled onto the monster, driving your axe in. The monster disintegrated. 

Done. You were done. 

Your protector was crying himself. His red and blotchy face came in and out of your vision as he tried to pick you up. A huge mistake on his part, another scream left your throat and you shoved him aside with your axe hand. It was the only limb in your control. 

Holding the axe to the ground, you stood up on shaky legs and dragged yourself to the camp entrance. Your satyr arrived by your side, more than wise enough now to not touch you, despite wanting to help. The injuries on you made him sick. But he held it all in to the best of his ability. 

The satyr was right. Artemis was right. The gods… they were right.

The camp was a sanctuary. 

The moment you crossed the threshold, it was as if you were given a shot of adrenaline. For a moment, your vision cleared, the pain subdued. Just enough to keep you from taking your last breath. 

Plunging your axe to the ground, you kneeled, heaving while your vision turned red for a moment. 

It was the gasps that made you blink away the blurriness. Gulping, you looked up at the crowd, much larger than before. They didn't look at you. No, they were looking at something above you. There was a faint idea of what it could have been. It explained the shot of adrenaline. 

You tilted your head up to see the remnants of the glowing red symbol; Ares had claimed you as his progeny. 

Happy, you should be happy. Instead, you spat out blood to the ground with a groan.

Your injured arm tingled, attempting to heal itself. Attempting being the key word. Besides, not that it could replace the dizziness in your head. You looked up again, hoping to see a face. Someone to ground you. To bring you a sense of normalcy. To remind you that you were part mortal too. Anything human, anything normal, anything typical before you pass away. 

Almost as if drawn to her, your eyes found a young girl arriving at the front by weaving through the crowd. Her shoulder shrugging away the hand that tried to stop her as she approached the very front. She had to be your age, or at least, looked it… but looks can be deceiving. She was… 

Not human.

Your eyes narrowed, a sneer forming… or an attempt at it with how you bared your teeth. 

She was not human. Couldn’t be.

She tried to move closer but someone tugged her back harshly. Before you could guess their next move, before you could tighten your grip around your axe again… darkness consumed your vision. 

The ground soared up to you and you were gone. 

Not that you knew it at the time, but your last image was of the young girl who would come to be very important to you. 

Minatozaki Sana.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: happy new year, i don't think i said it, so yeah !! have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

[tiktowafel]

do you ever think about how all you used to draw when you were 10 was ponies and that you should still know how to do that, then get an idea and proceed to draw something like these in nearly one sitting and it turns out better than any drawing you've done in the entire past month

sooo anyway does anyone have cutie mark or pony name ideas for them?? lol

[lesbian-sunshim]

support me on patreon or leave a tip

rare pairs for your consideration - starlight x discord

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

one thing i realized about fandaniel's dynamic with xande that really fucks me up is, like.... there are the obvious parallels that canon draws between meteion and xande, and their roles in hermes/fandaniel's lives. and there are also the parallels between fandaniel and meteion. there's a lot to unpack.

but it hit me recently that one of hermes' deepest, most devastating regrets is having failed meteion, with abuse and hypocrisy and the project he had the authority to make her a part of.

he was painfully aware that he wasn't fit to be a father; that he'd put them in a bitch of an unsatisfactory situation with his lack of foresight; that he was currently fucking things up in ways he did not know how to understand or articulate, much less address. he knew that there was no support system for this; not just for his mental health issues in general, but to educate him and hold him accountable about how to be decent to her, because he knew no one would give a fuck. the closest thing anyone would have given him to advice would be to just kill her and start over.

he says he hopes she'll find a better parent out there in space somewhere, because he knows there is not one to be found for her anywhere on this star, including him. she was one of the most helpless, vulnerable people in their society, and there was no backup for her if he mistreated her, if he failed. and he did.

so of course his next attempt to find a meteion would be an emperor. of course he'd be at the very top of the most powerful empire in the world, at the time. of course he'd position himself as his servant, devote himself to him utterly, and value his authority above all. he wanted someone he could never hurt the way he hurt meteion again.

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up