#things will disappear for a whole host of reasons

[heatherfield]

[x]

I think derry girls should have one thousand emmys

[chongoblog]

A couple days ago, I took a look back at my life online that all led to where I am now.

It was crazy. The very first thing I made for the internet 16 years ago was a video called “Mario Kart Glitches”, a camripped video that featured no actual glitches. I then made Youtube Poops (although less with sentence mixing and more “take a video and replace words with CDI voice clips”)

Then high school came around and I started to fall in love with collaboration. I made an abridged series with my friend, and I started doing voice work, looking around for dubbing projects and making friends that way, usually through Pokemon-related stuff (including one friend who kinda disappeared off the face of the earth one day. I don’t know if you’re still out there, but if you’re reading this: Hey, Kasumi)

Later on in high school I would start collaborating on Newgrounds and would eventually change my name to Chongo, as it is today. I’d made friends with a small circle of animators on there who took part in an annual animation tournament, usually willing to lend voice acting and occasionally music.

When I went into college, I branched out a lot more. I started my Tumblr, which led to a lot of posting and meeting more people. I started a side blog that ended up more popular than my main blog for a while (shoutouts to @dhmis-audio and All The Stuff I Did There)

Then one day I reached out to send in auditions for a Gravity Falls fan project where I’d meet one of the most important people in my life: Penny Parker. After meeting her and having an incredible time during a table read and a voice call afterwards, we started collaborating. And from there the rest is pretty well-known history. Spagoots, leading to Snapcube and Spagoots Realms. Snapcube would lead to the dubs and making a whole host of friends like Red, Scout, Joy, Alfred, Mar, Ellie & Bee, Camilla, Katy (and that’s just naming a few), and Realms would lead to the Red Kraken.

From there, as I went into the working world, my content went more by the way of music and mashups, but I’d still have an urge to tell stories like with CPU Kerfuffle, with my storytelling getting deeper with stuff like NCCT. And the mashups would lead to stuff like Mad Rat Monday.

And now here we are. It’s crazy to think I’ve been a creator online for well over half my life. 16 years. I wouldn’t watch most of the stuff from my past (and I wouldn’t urge you to look into stuff from more than 7 or so years ago for multiple reasons) but I’m glad it all happened. It led to who I am today.

[starlightvld]

Allowances

For @baohanhanesel - happy holidays! Have a little hurt/comfort, MacTavish family Christmas vibes, and Simon beginning to find his place among them (and a bit of sappy romance at the end).

(Also on AO3!)

---

"Dinnae fash, Simon. They're gonna love ye."

Ghost stands perfectly still beside the car as Johnny rounds the boot to step up beside him. They make a pair, with Johnny in a new bright red cable-knit sweater, jeans, and a navy blue knit cap that brings out the blue in his eyes, while Ghost is dressed down in his usual black shirt, black hoodie, and a black medical mask. His faded blue jeans are the only spark of color, as old and worn as Johnny's are crisp and new.

If he were a better person—a better partner—he would've worn something nicer. As it is, he's a split second away from turning around and disappearing into the Scottish twilight. The only thing keeping him rooted in place is—

A warm hand slips into his hoodie pocket and curls around his balled up fist. Ghost sucks in a deep, slow breath, and as he exhales, he releases the fist to clasp Johnny's hand palm to palm.

It terrifies him, the comfort a single touch can give. He knows how easily comfort can turn into soul-wrecking pain. Yet he clings to Johnny's hand with the kind of desperation Price would no doubt find concerning for a whole host of reasons.

"We dinnae have tae go inside," Johnny murmurs. "I can call mam from here and—"

"'M not gonna melt, Johnny. Just... gimme a minute."

He's already ruined Johnny's Christmas enough by bowing out of the actual holiday. But the aching despair of the anniversary always winnows him down to his basest self. Even three days later, he feels hollowed out and cold, his sole point of warmth the callused palm and strong fingers clinging to his as they huddle closer against the chill winter air.

Johnny doesn't know the sordid details, but he knows enough about special ops life to fill in the blanks. Every operator has their demons. Simon Riley's are just a little more harrowing than most.

At least the MacTavishes like to celebrate the winter season all the way through New Year's. Or so Johnny says. Ghost suspects the post-holiday get-together might be an allowance made specially for him, but he's certainly not going to ask about it. So here they are, standing in front of Johnny's childhood home outside of Glasgow, store-bought biscuits in hand, while a multi-colored glow spills through the frost-edged glass into the rapidly darkening outside world. It beckons them inside with the promise of warmth and joy and all the other things those trite holiday cards claim for the winter season.

Ghost doesn't move.

The blinking Christmas lights taunt him through the front window. Memories loom from the dark corners of his mind and threaten to upend the one thing he desperately wants to give Johnny—time with his family.

He takes another deep breath, taking care not to let the exhale shudder on the way out.

He's only met Emma and Grant MacTavish twice in passing at Johnny's medal ceremonies for Las Almas and then for the Chunnel op. The latter medal, a Victoria Cross, was officially for exceptional heroism in the line of duty and unofficially for assisting in the dismantling of a major bomb threat and taking down Makarov with a well-aimed stab. He and Johnny weren't in a relationship then, and even if they had been, it would've been inappropriate to mention it on base. Even so, he remembers the overflow of unearned gratitude in Emma's blue eyes—exactly like Johnny's—as she wrapped both of her warm hands around his and thanked him for keeping her boy alive.

The words still ring hollow as he thinks about Johnny collapsing on the cold concrete after clipping that final wire with Price.

He almost died in Ghost's arms that day, and Ghost hasn't been the same since. For one, he kissed his subordinate in the hospital the instant he thought Johnny was coherent enough to remember it and hasn't stopped kissing him since.

Completely unprofessional.

And utterly worth it.

With a final deep inhale and slow exhale, he straightens his shoulders. He can do this. Even if it makes his stomach cramp and his palms sweat with anxiety and the Christmas decorations seem to taunt him with memories of a family forever lost to him.

For Johnny, he can do this.

"Alright," Ghost murmurs—more to himself than to Johnny—as he slides their clasped hands from his hoodie pocket and pulls him toward the door.

It opens before they can knock, flinging brilliant light, excited conversation, and upbeat music into the night air. Emma MacTavish greets her son with a wordless exclamation of joy as she throws her arms around him in a tight hug. Somehow, Johnny manages to return the hug and answer rapid-fire questions about their journey all without letting go of Ghost's hand. Cold air pricks at the exposed skin around his medical mask, but Ghost is too focused on processing and cataloging every detail to acknowledge the physical discomfort.

Johnny looks more like Emma than he does Grant, sharing those bright blue eyes, dark hair, and a brilliant smile that could melt a glacier. Peas in a pod and, according to Soap, often partners in pranking crimes. All Ghost can see is warmth and light—pouring from her, from Johnny, from the home that was never riddled with suffering and people whose lives were never cut short by an evil too insidious to anticipate.

When Emma pulls back from Johnny, she keeps her hand curled around his bicep as she turns the full power of her warm gaze on Ghost.

"And Simon—may I call ye Simon?" Emma asks.

"Yeah," Ghost replies before clearing his throat and adding, "Hello, Mrs. MacTavish."

The smile she gives him sends a shock of pain through his chest even as a flood of comfort flows in behind to sooth the ache.

It's kind. Compassionate.

Motherly.

And it's directed at him.

It gets worse—or better?—when she reaches out to gently clasp his bicep too, connecting the three of them in a circle of touch. As if he's somehow a part of this world. As if he deserves a second chance at family despite dooming his own. The connection is both suffocating and freeing, as if he's taking his first breath of fresh air in years all while a boulder crushes his chest.

She squeezes his arm, and her smile widens into something familiar. Maybe a bit teasing, too.

"Call me Emma, love. I'm so glad yer here. Both of ye. Now, come in out of the cold, will ye? My bones are already aching."

Ghost flounders as the onslaught of pain and comfort slices straight through the layers of armor he's built up through the years, exposing his soft insides.

He wants to fall into the touch.

He wants to run away.

He meets Johnny's gaze, and the softness and understanding he finds there is a balm to his spiraling emotions. Despite everything inside screaming at him to shut down, to not let anyone else into that secret part of him that Johnny breached with the ease of a demolitions expert, Ghost is helpless to do anything but follow Emma inside.

For the first time since he lost his family, he dares to let himself hope.

-

Hours later, Johnny pulls Ghost into bed with a gentle hum, guiding his head to rest on his chest. The heavy thud under Ghost's ear is like scissors to a puppet's strings, snipping the tension away and leaving him boneless and overwhelmed.

"Alright?" Johnny murmurs in his ear before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head.

"Not made of glass," Ghost grumbles.

Johnny knows him too well to take him seriously, even now. "Nae, yer made of sterner stuff. Gunpowder, madness, and pure spite."

"Spite can be motivatin'. Just ask any of the rookies who've had me for drills."

Johnny hums a laugh, and Ghost presses his ear harder into Johnny's chest to catch every vibration. Fingers trail through his hair, and he sighs.

"How shite was that, scale of one to ten?"

"What?" Johnny mumbles, his lips once again pressed to the side of Ghost's head.

"How bad an impression did I make?"

A hand grasps his hair to gently tip his head up. Their eyes meet, and the genuine confusion in Johnny's expression gives Ghost hope.

That he didn't fuck everything up. That Johnny's family won't try to convince him to stay away from Ghost.

"Mam was absolutely charmed, Ghost. I think she'd adopt ye on the spot if she could."

Ghost blinks. He replays the evening in his head—from the homemade dinner to the impromptu after-dinner sing-along between Johnny and his niblings to the softer conversation between the adults once the children had crashed. He can't think of anything he did to warrant such a reaction. In fact he barely talked at all, content to let Johnny answer questions for both of them and only interjecting when someone spoke to him directly, which happened rarely enough that Ghost was positive Johnny had asked them to make allowances for him. He both hated and loved it—hated that it made him feel weak, like he couldn't handle himself or his emotions, but loved that Johnny was clearly thinking about him and ensuring he would be as comfortable as possible.

He doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve Johnny at all if he's being honest with himself. The man is too good—all righteous fire and burning passion. But with that honesty comes the acknowledgment that he's far too selfish to ever give Johnny up.

At this thought, a faint memory surfaces of Emma's soft look when Ghost wrapped his arm around Johnny's shoulders as they settled on the couch. It's how they always sit when on leave because they can't risk it on base. Ghost loves the feeling of their bodies melding together, a line of heat at his side and Johnny close enough for Ghost to mumble inappropriate comments, bad jokes, and blush-inducing innuendo into Johnny's ear.

Apparently Emma MacTavish thinks it's a good thing, too.

"Well. Good then?"

Johnny hums another laugh, making Ghost's cheek buzz. "It is good, love. Very good." He tightens his arm around Ghost's shoulders. "Thank ye for coming with me."

Ghost swallows. Despite their solid relationship status, they haven't exchanged more than joking admissions of their mutual attraction. He feels the lack all the more as the worst of his holiday malaise falls away in the face of so much care and affection. Something wiggles loose in his chest, a sensation of free falling as his lips form words he hasn't said since before Roba took his family from him.

"Thought you woulda figured out by now that you've got me wrapped around that trigger finger of yours." He swallows. Takes a shaking breath. "You're the only thing alive in this world that I love."

Johnny stills under him. Even his chest is unmoving, breaths locked up with a quick inhale.

And then it all comes out in a rush.

"Simon... d'ye mean tha'?"

And though it means losing the comforting thud of Johnny's heart in his ear, Ghost answers by leaning up, gripping Johnny's chin with his fingers, and pressing a soft kiss to slack lips. When he pulls back, Johnny is staring at him, tears welling in his blue eyes and a wide grin replacing his shocked expression.

"Love ye, too, ye big bastart," Johnny whispers before diving in for another kiss.

And maybe it's not perfect in an objective sense. Maybe he still misses his family and what could have been. But in this moment—with this man and his gracious family who went out of their way to make him feel welcome—it's the closest to perfection he's ever been.

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

Cursed Experiment

Sukuna x F! Reader ... 18+

Summary: A need to do something of use pushed her on the path of research, a path that lead to Ryomen Sukuna, a path that will haunt her forever. Words: 2646 Warnings: This whole thing is a big TW. NSFW, non con, blood, power play (its Sukuna guys cmon), unprotected, creampie, degredation, breeding kink sort of, size kink sort of.

A/N: I shouldn't have to say this but I don't condone actual r*pe or anything of the sort. This is fanfiction. Emphasis on the fiction.

~MDNI~

Being such a low-grade sorcerer was not the best feeling in the world, looked down on by so many, pitied or hated it felt the same. If only you had been born like a regular human, you could hide away from the monsters of the world, you could live guilt free because of you’re complete and utter uselessness. Unfortunately, however you could see curses, which meant you had to try hard, you had help otherwise that guilt would eat you up. Between that looming guilt, you’re barely there technique and desire for you to at least be able to protect yourself is how you came to be a student at jujutsu high. You did come to learn however, your talents lay in academia. Studying and analyzing, putting together reasonable theories to help in combat against the curses and curse users. After the Shibuya incident you were more determined than ever to learn and with that your mind had set itself upon Yuji Itadori and the powerful curse that resided within him, Ryomen Sukuna.

It had been weeks now, following the boy around and studying him, asking him all sorts of questions then disappearing into as much of the literature you could find. To your surprise, Itadori had been rather enthusiastic about your assessment, hoping in your studying of him that you might find a way to rid him of the curse and spare him or at least give him total control so that Sukuna didn’t harm anyone again. The curse in question had no intention of helping you though, chiming in on occasion purely out of his own amusement. You’d even taken to questioning Choso in order to gleam more insight on how cursed objects affect a host’s body. Although he wasn’t entirely helpful either, more so from a lack of understanding his own nature than a desire to help.

It was the topic of the death paintings that you were currently chatting about to Itadori, sat across from one another on his bed, a notebook to your side and laptop resting atop your lap. “So, we know very little as I said, but we can expect that they were created with their mother’s egg of course however when it comes to the paternal parentage it’s more of an, educated guess. See, it could be Noritoshi’s seed and the curse’s blood or cursed energy.” Taking a breath you continue with a slight exaggeration, “Or, it could be the other way around. The curse’s seed and Noritoshi’s blood. I don’t think imbuing his cursed energy would have passed on the Kamo blood technique though but explaining all why seems unnecessary for now. Anyway, what I’m getting at is…” as you continued on Sukuna had formed a mouth on Itadori’s cheek, remarking to the boy “Well, the little mouse is not so dull, imagine that. Prattles too much though.” Your cheeks burned red, eyes snapping up at the same time Itadori’s hand clapped over his cheek, a grimace on his face as he apologised.

You should be used to it by now, Sukuna had, on quite a few occasions, added his own comment to your conversations and it was never kind. Usually something about your weakness, hence he often referred to you as ‘little mouse’. It hurt at first and Sukuna seemed to enjoy that reaction, however now it mostly pissed you off and even though you tried to ignore him, his taunts seemed to burrow under your skin like some evil little parasite, poisoning your mind with hateful thoughts that had once been so foreign to you. “S’okay Yuji” you reassured, shaking your head and flashing a somewhat strained smile. You couldn’t blame him, he was nothing like Sukuna, so you were always quick to remind him of that. As you turned your eyes back to your notebook you hummed, a stray thought finding it’s way past your lips, “If you fathered a child, I wonder if it would possess any of Sukuna’s techniques or biology.” Thinking out loud truly was a bad habit and you felt nerves creep over you the second you said it, apologizing immediately, worried it was an inappropriate topic or just plain insensitive considering his impending execution.

“What an interesting question mouse, perhaps you should experiment, be the next Noritoshi hm?” The snide remark sent chills down your spine and Itadori stood up, waving his hands nervously as he apologised again. “Ah, perhaps that’s enough of my chatter for the night, I’ll leave you be Yuji” your voice had a waver to it, betraying your discomfort as you stood to collect your things. As you turned to leave, a hand clamped over your wrist and the sudden restraint had you jolting, notebook and laptop falling to the floor with a crash. As your eyes met Itadori’s you felt that cold chill wash over you, that feeling when your entire body knows it’s in danger and your stomach seems to collapse into itself and leave a nauseating heaviness in your gut. The hairs on your body stood on end as the sight of Sukuna’s distinct markings made your brain scream in fear and as you began to pull your hand back you knew his comments about your weakness were accurate. He could squeeze his hand and snap your wrist like a twig and the energy that radiated off of him stole your breath away.

He was smirking as he pulled his hand to his chest, forcing you close to him as he spoke in low voice, “You ask a lot of questions, it’s … vexing.” His voice trailed into a something of a growl, his annoyance clear as he continued, “So I’ll provide the experiment to answer one of your many questions, it has been a long time since I’ve indulged after all so I get something out of it too.” He really phrased it like he was about to do you a favor and in hopes of changing his mind, your brain and mouth finally started to work again and you teared up as you stuttered, “No, no Sukuna it, it was a p-passing though, please, d-don’t, I don’t want this!” Your words began to roll together in the panic as you began tugging against his vice like grip. He remained unmoved, staring at you like you were a hissing kitten, amusement barely hiding the cruelty in his eyes.

“You don’t want this? Hm, I thought you were dedicated to your studies, a shame.” Sukuna tilted his head, hand releasing you as he crossed his arms, muscles flexing in a way that only cemented your fear further. “I took control for this little experiment and you don’t want it? Ungrateful. Disrespectful.” With your arm free you stepped back, once, twice, then you turned to sprint and within an instant a hand had splayed out across your stomach, winding you with the force and as a scream tried to claw itself out of your throat another hand had clamped over your mouth. You felt your body being drawn back towards him and while Itadori himself wasn’t an overly large guy, he wasn’t like Aoi Todo in build or even Gojo in height, he still dwarfed you and his hand seemed to cover the entire lower half of your face, a couple fingers stretching down your neck.

The hand Sukuna had pressed to your stomach traced up to your neck, fingers curling over the neckline to form a fist around the fabric before yanking harshly, the buttons and fabric of your uniform giving away easily under the force he used. He pulled your bra down next, exposing your chest to the room as your tears ran freely down your cheeks now, collecting against his hand before spilling over and dripping down. A bored hum resonated from his chest as his free hand groped at your breasts, index and thumb capturing your nipple before pinching it harshly making your writhe against him as you tried to cry out only for the sound to muffle. Your hands tugged at his arm, trying to pull it off your chest as he chuckled. “I’d normally prefer to let you scream your little lungs out but, I’m on limited time so let’s not risk being interrupted.”

Sukuna turned towards the bed as his hand released your nipple only to travel down to lift your skirt instead, snaking under your panties and fingers parting your lips and searching for your core. Your hands followed his arm, nails digging into his skin as you tried to stop, your choked pleas ignored as his middle finger pressed into you with a groan. “Even for such a little thing your tight, I wonder, is it fear or is my little mouse a virgin? Perhaps both” he chuckled as he pressed his palm against your pelvis, forcing your body further against him and the erection that was now clearly rubbing against your lower back. The hand over your mouth loosened, giving you space to breathe and you took the chance to beg the curse for mercy and he rolled his eyes as he scoffed, “You’d be better off screaming, I have no intentions of stopping. I am curious though, is this fragile little body of your really untouched?” Sobbing, you nodded “Please, Sukuna please, don’t, don’t, please don’t.” “How fitting, a virgin sacrifice, that should be an omen of success for this experiment” Sukuna laughed, once again ignoring the pleas as his hand clamped back down on your mouth.

Forcing another finger into your tight heat had you squirming, pressing up on your toes in an attempt to get away but it only served to make the monster behind you groan into your ear. Deciding not to waste anymore time, Sukuna removed his fingers and instead used them to tear off the flimsy fabric that had been your underwear. “I’m gonna need both hands now, so no screaming yeah? Anyone that interrupts me will die and you don’t want people dying on your behalf, do you?” Another sob seems to wrack itself through your body and your hands fell away from his arm, your will to fight fizzling out at the promise of death. “I’m going to need you to answer me mouse, I want to hear you say you won’t scream.” As he dropped his hand from your mouth you barely had the capacity to speak, choking out between sobs, “I won’t scream, I won’t, I promise.” Sukuna chuckled, content with your compliance, “That’s a good little mouse.”

Now he pressed you forward and into the bed, forcing you onto your knees, ass up and face pressed into the mattress. He unbuttoned the fly of his trousers, pulling his cock out and rubbing the fat tip against your pussy. His touch might have been rough but your body had reacted how he wanted and you were slick enough it would be enjoyable for him. You dug your fingers into the duvet, wishing, praying you’d sink into it and disappear before he got any further but your thoughts got crushed as forced the angry red tip into you. Sukuna dug his own nails into your ass as he gripped himself and tried to get in further, “If you don’t relax, I’m only going to be rougher.” He sounded irritated, like the burning stretch that had you crying harder now was simply an inconvenience to him. You tried though, you really did, squeezing your eyes shut and willing your body to relax to the intrusion but it had a mind of its own and seemed only to defy you, muscles clenching in an attempt to stop the curse from using you.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, “I warned you” and he pulled your hips back harshly, forcing himself in. You know you promised not to, but you screamed, it was thankfully muffled by the duvet that you had pulled into your face but Sukuna brought a hand down on your hip, snapping at you to be quiet. It felt like you were being split in half, like he tore your tight cunt to fit himself in, a burning, stinging pain that radiated throughout your pelvis and down your thighs making you gasp for air. He moved more freely now, sliding in and out with a deep grunt of pleasure as the coppery smell of blood filled your nostrils making you gag and bury your face deeper into the bed. “Humans, you’re as fragile and weak as bugs” He mused as he slammed your hips back against himself again. Even now he seemed bored, as if using your body like some fuck toy meant nothing to him. Maybe if your mind wasn’t so shattered you’d have picked up on how his pleasure seemed to come from dominating you, tormenting you, ruining you.

He reached a hand forward, yanking your hair to the side, forcing your face into the light and displaying the swollen red mess that was your eyes. Cheeks streaked with tears and the outline of his handprint that had slowly begun to bloom into a bruise in some places. He grinned then, eyes taking in your look of despair as he fucked you into him at a brutal pace, hand returning to your hip and once again he sunk his nails into your flesh pulling a broken cry from your lips. It sounded hoarse, your throat sore from sobbing, from screaming into his hand then the bed. Sukuna knew he was running low on time, he could feel Itadori trying to claw back out and he focused on the blood now instead. Watched as it beaded up then slipped over the swell of your ass, some of the droplets making it as far as your thighs.

Finally Sukuna felt that coil tighten, pulling your body as close as he could, the head of his cock now hitting your cervix with bruising force that had you whimpering in pain despite the odd heat of pleasure that still managed to build in your own stomach. He rutted himself against your ass, blood smearing and staining his pants, the smell of it and sex filling the air and with a low, rumbling groan he spilled himself inside. Your heartbroken sobs only serving to fuel him, encouraging him to press as deep as your body could possibly allow and he stilled, breathing slow and deep, watching your tense body quiver. “Hm, here’s a question for you. If you do get pregnant, will Itadori be there for you and the child? Will he run, convince you to abort it, maybe he’ll suggest you keep it? He’ll definitely blame himself either way. Stupid. Humans are so stupid. I look forward to it though. Breaking him is very enjoyable after all.” Sukuna pulled away, completely releasing you now, watching as the mix of blood and cum slowly dribbled out of your swollen cunt, the occasional drip falling onto the bed below.

Once you realised you were free you collapsed, legs pulling up to your chest as you trembled, waiting for the curse to disappear as bile burnt your throat as the sick reality of the situation settled over you. It felt like forever and yet it somehow it felt like it had all happened in the blink of an eye and you realised you felt dizzy, the room seemed to swim and shift before your eyes. Suddenly Itadori’s voice rang out, a choked gasped followed by a loud thud as he stumbled back only to fall on his ass. Itadori didn’t want to look, he really didn’t want to see but his eyes seemed fixated on the trembling form on his bed and he knew, he knew all the apologies in the world, no matter how sincere, weren’t going to fix this. A silence seemed to swallow the room now, disturbed only by Itadori’s scattered breaths and your own shaky, whimpered ones.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my her ex I read her poetry?

I (F19) dated my ex (F18, Lacy) for about 9 months. I broke up with her because she had a lot of issues I just didn't know how to deal with and I also fell in love with my best friend (NB19, Alex, he/his pronouns), so I decided it was the best course of action. I broke up with Lacy on January of 2023 and started dating Alex in February.

Around this time, I found an Instagram account that posted poetry. There was nothing that could identify the author, but the poetry was really good so I started to follow them. With time, however, the poems started to look... familiar. Not the writing style, but some situations on them, for example: one of them said something like "your brother's night sky truck that took us to the stars" (my older brother has a dark blue truck he would lend me so I could take Lacy on dates) and another said "that old guitar you had that you never learned to play like you played me" (I have an old guitar I inherited from my father and I indeed never learned how to play it). These are only two examples, but I found many others that convinced me that account belonged to Lacy.

I know I should have left it alone the second I realized the account belonged to her, but it was so flattering to see she wrote all of that about me. I didn't tell anyone, not my friends or Alex, but I kept following the account and reading Lacy's poetry. I think my feelings for her started to rekindle after that, because no one ever wrote about me like that and, as months passed, she kept writing about me. She never got over me.

My relationship with Alex also started to have problems during this time. He got a job at an ice cream parlour and he started a D&D campain with his friends, which means we started to spend less and less time together. He didn't seem to be as interested in me as he was during our first months of relationship, and I feel like he's taking me for granted. Lately, more specifically since December, we started to fight a lot over small things too.

We went to a New Year's party one of our friends was hosting and Lacy was there too. That enough was reason for Alex to start complaining, since he has a lot of feelings of jealousy regarding her. We ended up having a fight because he thought I knew she'd be there, which I didn't, and he went to stay with our friends, avoiding me the whole night.

It was New Year's eve and I had just fought with my partner, who was monopolizing all of our friends and leaving me by myself, so I started to drink. I know that wasn't a good idea, but I was angry and frustrated and I thought that would help. It didn't, I just got super drunk.

Since my filter disappears when I'm drunk, I went after Lacy and told her her poetry was really good. At first she was confused, so I said I found her poetry account and her poems were amazing, and I was flattered she still thought about me like that, because I didn't think anyone else ever saw me in such a beautiful way.

After that, the panic in her eyes became clear. She started to cry, not full on sobbing but some tears rolled down her face and she didn't answer me, just left. Alex saw the interaction and came to ask me what happened. I ended up telling him about Lacy's poetry account, we fought again and I decided to go home. In that same night, I searched for the poetry account and it was deleted.

This whole situation didn't leave my head since it happened and I don't know what to think. Alex has also been avoiding me and I don't understand why everyone seems to be against me. Lacy blocked me everywhere and I'm beginning to think leaving her for Alex was a huge mistake. It was also never my intention to make Lacy feel like she had to delete her account.

AITA for telling her I knew about the poetry account?

What are these acronyms?

[berriweb]

Hello, how are you doing? If it’s alright with you, may I request pavitr, miles e-42 and 1016 and Hobie headcanons where their s/o doesn’t contact them for a week and the boys haven’t seen their s/o during that period and no one knows where they went (so pretty much went of the grid) and then one day the reader shows up and turns out, they have become the permanent host for Venom as they are completely compatible with one another and the reader apologies to the boys for not contacting them cause they were scared and had to deal with the whole symbiote thing and Venom didn’t trust the boys

╰┈➤ ❝ i have your best interests in mind ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. pavitr prabhakar, hobie brown, earth-1610! miles, earth-42! miles

: ̗̀➛ synopsis. reader goes missing after becoming a host for venom and the boys are unaware of this

: ̗̀➛ a/n. okay so im actually madly in love with idea?? many kisses to you for this request anon, hope it’s worth the wait

— PAVITR PRABHAKAR

There would absolutely nothing more devastating to Pavitr than the worry he had when you initially disappeared

He’s a super affectionate boyfriend meaning you two would likely hang 24/7 and if you’re not together then he’s always texting you or randomly calling to check up on you

So from the start when you aren’t at home for him to walk you to school and then don’t show up at school he’s caught off guard, surely you would’ve let him know if you had other plans or were sick like you always did?

He’ll text you that morning asking if everything’s okay and where you’re at, and by noon when he doesn’t get a response he slowly starts losing it

Probably checks his phone every 2 minutes, turns it off and on to see if it’s messed up and he just hadn’t received your message, etc.

By the evening he’s contacted all of your friends and family to see if they knew where you were. When it becomes apparent that none of them know where you’ve gone either is when he starts officially freaking out

Files a missing person’s report that evening and spends the rest of the night swinging around Mumbattan looking around for any sign of your face, to no avail

It only gets worse the next few days, he starts slipping up and focusing more on finding you than any Spider-Man work he normally would’ve been doing, hoping every time that he’ll catch even a glimpse of you

It wasn’t until nearly a week later that he finally got answers, having just finished up helping a woman who’d gotten mugged when he notices someone in a familiar shirt ducking into a nearby alley

The same shirt you were wearing the last time he saw you

There weren’t enough words to describe the relief that washed over Pavitr when he rushed for the alley and saw your face just as you turned your back to the road.

“Y/N!”

That relief turns into confusion when he notices how hard you jump at the sound of your own name, as well as he notices the hood from your jacket pulled over your face as if you were trying to stay hidden. When you turn to look at him, the fear in your eyes makes him stop in his tracks, and luckily so because you throw your hands up before the spider can get any closer

“Get back!”

Pavitr doesn’t understand your vagueness at first when you apologize for going M.I.A but still seem hesitant to come back with him

Until you offer to explain but only after he promises not to freak out when you show, not tell

He agrees, but doesn’t wrap his head around it until your body is suddenly engulfed in a sea of black (tentacles? liquid? he couldn’t tell) and your face is covered by rows of sharp, menacing teeth containing a slimy, and slightly unnerving, tongue and jagged white eyes

Despite the warning he still gets initially defensive, and seeing that was enough for the monster who took over you to loudly vocalize their concerns

“I told you he could not be trusted.”

For a moment it seemed like the being and you must’ve been arguing, but he could only hear it’s side of the conversation, and from the sounds of it the monster was the reason you’d gone missing

As fast as it had appeared, the demon disappeared you were standing in it’s place again. He relaxed, and you finally explained to him why you hadn’t gone back

Pavitr still seems a bit freaked out at the thought of another being living in your body, but after the initial worry he seems to be less on guard about the whole ordeal

Pavitr rushes to pull you into a hug before you could even get out your last word, tight enough to make you pat his back to try to tap out after the first few seconds. “Pav…”

He acts like he doesn’t hear you at first, but the second time you call his name he reluctantly pulls away, but only enough for you to breathe properly, and gets sheepish.

“Sorry, I just really missed you.”

Pav assures you that you have nothing to worry about and as long as your new parasite doesn’t cause any trouble he can manage, but makes you promise to never leave him worrying like that for so long again

— HOBIE BROWN

It would take him a while longer to realize something was wrong like Pav did

There have been times where the two of you haven’t talked for days due to him being off doing Soider-Man work or you just having your own life keeping you busy so not talking for a small period of time isn’t completely abnormal

The only difference? You’d always tell each other before it happened

On day one Hobie didn’t take much note of it when he came over by your place to visit after a long night fighting as Spider-Man. You’d probably been out running errands or out with friends, nothing worth stressing himself out over

Hobie wasn’t a fan of texting and calling as he preferred seeing you in person, so his phone mostly went unused unless it was an emergency

The next day Hobie decided to drop by in the evening to hang out with you in his free time, yet when he tried knocking the lack of an answer gave him the unknown feeling of something being wrong

When he resorted to the normal route (that being climbing in through your window) Hobie was surprised to be left standing on the side of the building because the window was locked

He didn’t understand the random change of heart when you almost always left it open for him to enter if he ever dropped by as Spider-Man

Hobie picked the lock and managed to slip in regardless, but the signs showing that you hadn’t been in your apartment in a while were starting to make him suspicious. All of the belongings you’d normally take with you when you left your home were still in the home, that much he realized after finally trying to call you, only to hear your phone buzzing in the room, fishing around and finding it still plugged into the wall under your sheets

You hadn’t even taken your phone?

That’s when he started to worry

With no way to contact you, Hobie chose to spend the rest of that day and the following night lounging around your place, hoping to see you walk in and explain that you’d been in a rush and give some reasonable explanation as to why you disappeared

But you don’t

He doesn’t want to entertain the thought that something bad could’ve happened to you, and even more so, he doesn’t want to believe it could’ve been related to someone finding out your relation to Spider-Man

Hobie resorts to asking around and doing his own investigating to figure out what happened to you (which mostly involved him interrogating any criminal or villain he encountered while out as Spider-Man, but that was besides the point)

He also abandons his home entirely and spends his time at your place instead in the off chance that you’ll show up

Which ends up being exactly what happens

With his feet kicked up on the arm of the couch and his head half-hanging off of the other end, Hobie found himself mindless strumming at the strings of his guitar to fill the silence that’d overtaken the room. His eyes were glued to the clock silently ticking that you’d hung up above the door to your bedroom, showing just how far into the night it was.

It’d been days since he’d seen you, and with no way to reach you and no leads on where you could’ve gone, he was running out of options to consider aside from sitting around hoping you’d return one day. He hated that option.

In the middle of running over every possibility for your disappearance in his mind, the sound of a lock clicking pulled him out of his head and his head snapped towards the door. His heart stopped for a moment, yet his hope that you’d finally come home was demolished the moment the door opened.

Hobie jumped up before he could think, guitar long forgotten, as instead of seeing you walk in, he witnessed a large (at least 7 feet) monster seemingly completely made out of black goop and baring razor sharp teeth come barreling through the door. It’s movements were calculated but it made a mess the moment it entered the door, slamming the door so hard there was an audible sound of wood splitting from the doorframe.

“I need food! Do you expect me to starve?! I can’t survive on stolen chocolate!”

Hobie had crawled up the wall and crouched from an upper corner in the room, silently wishing he’d brought his suit with him, but in no way could he have predicted this. He watched as the monster stomped around the room, seemingly throwing a fit as it argued with itself. It ran into a shelf and knocked over all of the trinkets on it, whether or not that was intentional or not. Just as he readied himself to attack was when the being turned and it’s head shot up, only then noticing the stranger who’d been watching the entire encounter.

In the blink of an eye he’d shot webs that connected to both of the monsters arms, limiting it’s movements and lunging forwards, kicking it to the ground. Unluckily for him, he couldn’t use the element of surprise twice, but the conversation that followed as he jumped to avoid it smashing him with it’s fists was more alarming than anything else.

“What about him, can I at least eat this one?”

Hobie was seconds away from flinging the monster into the wall when the black ooze started to melt away, and his movements came to a screeching halt when he realized it was your face under the mass.

To say he was surprised would’ve been a heavy understatement

“Tell me I’m dreaming.”

He was, in fact, not dreaming

He immediately backed off upon realizing what he was about to start fighting was his s/o, but demanded an explanation before he lost his mind trying to come up with one himself

When you explained how you’d become a host for the symbiote and why you were so afraid and couldn’t come see him, his reaction was more collected than you were expected even considering his calm personality, but he did proceed to lightly scold you for not coming to him in the first place while understanding why you would’ve been scared to do so

When he finds out about how Venom didn’t trust him, Hobie offers to make a deal to keep the symbiote in line and keep you from having issues dealing with the being not liking your boyfriend

What exactly was the deal? Hobie let’s Venom eat all of the corrupt government officials he ends up defeating, that way everyone’s happy

— EARTH-1610! MILES MORALES

Poor Miles would be going through it

He’s not as clingy as Pav but he does get worried since you guys talk nearly every day, so just like him, when you didn’t show up to class he was beyond worried

He’d try to call and ask if something was up since you two had plans for later that day, but no answer. Alongside that, no one else has seen you around either

When he calls your family and they voice their concerns about you not coming back home the day prior is when his nerves get the better of him

Miles is a smart boy so one of the first things he does is immediately go to his dad to file a missing person’s report

Alongside that, he’s questioning any and everyone he comes in contact with about whether or not they’d seen you around

As he clapped his hands together to mock wiping dust from his palms, Miles searches for his phone that he always seems to pull out of his suit from no where (because seriously, where does he have room to hold it?), ignoring the angry curses from the bank robber he’d webbed to the outside of the building.

“Yeah yeah yeah, that’s nice and all…” he mutters while typing away on his phone, which only seemed to anger the criminal anymore, evident by the vein popping in his forehead and the increase in words that definitely weren’t meant for children.

As the police sirens grew louder and the citizens who’d previously been the gunman’s hostages stood around anxiously, some attempting to get the heroes attention to ask for photos, Miles held up the phone to the man’s face and zoomed in.

“You seen this person around lately?”

It takes a week for him to finally find you (one of the worst weeks of his life), albeit it wasn’t you he was looking for initially

After being stopped in the street by an old woman complaining that she’d seen a monster lurking around the abandoned building near her apartment home and heard weird noises coming from it, Miles had gone to investigate in order to come back and happily report that there was nothing for her to worry about

Unfortunately for Miles, however, he was completely wrong, as when he crawled into the run down storage center through the roof, he caught a full view of a gigantic, inky black creature crunching on what was once the full body of a man

He would’ve been more concerned over the fact that there was a man-eating monster lurking the streets of Brooklyn had he not focused on taking down the monster first, but just as he dropped down from the ceiling is when it became aware of its presence and what he assumed was the creatures skin started to peel away until you were left standing in its place

The mask prevented you from seeing his full expression, but the way the eyes widened was enough to show his mixture of shock and confusion

Miles could only stand there, baffled as he listened to you explain your situation and how you’d become their new host. When he got a chance to speak, the first thing he brought up was how he’d technically just watched his s/o eat a man alive, only for you to reassure him that it was the only person you’d ever eaten and that he was a really bad criminal you’d had eyes on for days

It was hard for him to make sense of it and while he didn’t exactly enjoy the thought of you having to eat people to survive now, Miles will admit that as long as you aren’t devouring the innocent he can manage

“So…does this make you like- a zombie or something?”

You tried (and failed) to resist the urge to roll your eyes at his comment as the two of you sat atop the roof of the old building, watching the city. “Miles.”

“I’m just saying, Venom eat brains,” he raised one hand, “zombies eat brains,” he raised his other, then pushed the two together, “you’re kind of like a zombie. You come become a hero like me! Maybe keep the ‘eating heads’ part on the down low, though. I can even come up with a cool zombie name for you! We could be a team.”

“One, I am not a zombie, and two, what’s wrong with the name Venom?”

“It’s fine I guess, not nearly as cool as a zombie name would be though-” he stopped when your hand suddenly shot up before his reflexes could kick in and smacked him in the mouth. “-hey!”

“Sorry! That was Venom.”

Miles made a face at you, but you knew it was more or less directed at the symbiote.

“Venom said that’s a terrible idea and you’re an idiot.”

That’s not what I said.

“-in more vulgar words that I’m not going to repeat.”

He raised his hands defensively. “That’s a genius idea! Would you rather be named after brains or chocolate or something instead? Chocolate and spiders don’t go together at all.”

“Neither do zombies and spiders.”

“Point taken.”

“…”

“…what about Spider-Zom-”

“Miles.”

“Alright alright, Venom it is.”

— EARTH-42! MILES MORALES

Miles would get straight trying to find you the second he realized it’s been hours since he’s seen you and no one else has a clue where you’ve gone too

He’s not the type to be too overbearing but he is really overprotective considering you’re associated with him and the type of danger he gets himself involved in, so making sure you’re always is a number one priority for him and when he has no idea what you’re up to for a long enough period of time he gets worried

Especially considering the amount of crime in the city, for all he knows anything could’ve happened to you and if he finds out that something did and he wasn’t there to protect you he’d be devastated

Immediately let’s Uncle Aaron know to keep an eye out and that most of his Prowler business would be put on hold until he finds you because you’re more important than any vigilante work

The longer you’re gone, the more anxious he becomes and while he might not show it most of the ones he’s close to will be able to tell that something’s up

“Cálmate, Miles. The more you sit around stressing yourself out the harder you’re being on yourself for no reason. I’m sure they’ll show up any day now.”

Miles tried to take his mother’s words to heart, but knowing that you could be out there anywhere in pain or worse because of him leaves him no room to relax.

“No puedo, mamí. I have to know that they’re okay.”

His worries were starting to manifest physically, the tightness in between his brows, constant bouncing of his leg and the tapping of his fingers on any surface he could reach being clear signs of it. He was sure he’d checked his phone nearly a hundred times in the last hour alone, waiting for a call from you saying you were okay or a text from Uncle Aaron letting him know he’d found you. Something, anything. It was the fourth night in a row he’d spent up all night, completely abandoning his bed when he realized he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

His mother leaned down and placed a hand over his own to stop him from the finger tapping he hadn’t realized he’d picked up again, turning over his phone to lay it flat on his desk.

“And it’s my job to make sure you’re okay. Get some rest, I’m sure if we get any updates it won’t be in the middle of the night.”

He looked her in the eye for a moment, but any attempt to disagree was futile as he knew he couldn’t argue against her.

“Okay, fine, I’ll get some sleep.”

“¿Juras?”

“Lo juro.”

With a kiss on the cheek she left him to his own devices in his room, but as soon as the door shut and he was sure he’d heard her footsteps retreated back to her room, Miles grabbed his claws and mask and headed straight for the fire escape.

All attempts at trying to find you were futile, and while he refused to lose hope Miles was beginning to assume the worst

He never wanted to entertain the thought that you could’ve died or worse, but thankfully for him that worry was squashed when in the middle of yet another restless night, Miles suddenly heard tapping coming from his window

The one clawed glove he always kept on him was the first thing Miles reached for when he heard the initial taps on his window, but as he slowly approached the window, he paused with the glove half on when meeting your gaze as your head poked over from the edge of the windowsill.

With a mixture of confusion and surprise, he rushed to unlock and open the window, watching in awe as you climbed through, rising to your feet. He looks out the window, taking note of the fact that there’s absolutely no way you could’ve climbed up given that there was nothing to climb on and his window was far from the ground.

When you look at each other a long moment filled with silence follows, and he can’t help but notice if you’re studying his looks or judging them.

“You look tired.”

Possibly both?

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to wake you, I shouldn’t have come.”

He seems to snap out of it as soon as you start heading back for the window, reaching out to grab you by the arm.

“Wait! Stay.”

Miles would have loads and loads of questions to ask you, starting with “are you okay?” and ending with “why did you disappear on me? i was worried sick!”

Listening to you explain how you’d become a permanent host for the symbiote was almost just as hard to comprehend as when you showed it off and allowed Venom to momentarily take over you

He’d unconsciously move back without realizing it, but you retreated back to your normal self moments after just for the sake of not freaking him out

It’d take a moment to process, but when you’d show signs of guilt and mentioned leaving again and understanding if he didn’t want to be associated with you he’d stopped you again

“You really won’t mind?”

Shaking his head, Miles pulled you in for an embrace, nose pressed into the top of your head for a moment before a placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You come as a package deal now, right? I don’t really have a choice of not being cool with the whole Venom thing, no way I’m leaving you. Somos tu y yo.”

When he pulled back he noticed you make a funny face and muttered a quick no, only for a moment, and wondered what was wrong.

“It’s nothing, Venom just asked if they could eat you.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I mean, I guess that means they think you’re tasty so probably good, take it as a compliment.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom lore for the Blood Blossom Au

Blood Blossoms -- otherwise scientifically known as rosa hemato -- are an extinct genus of flower from the rosaceae family that disappeared from the mortal plane in the late 1600s due to over-foraging from settlers during the Witch Trials. Prior to their extinction, they were already a rare breed of rose because of an evolutionary trait resulting in their main source of energy being ambient ectoplasm.

This means that blood blossoms only grow in areas where there are unusual levels of ectoplasm present. Regardless, however, only one or two bushes of blood blossoms can grow, as too many of them results in the ectoplasm being sucked out with no room of replenishing back to its original levels. This kills the blood blossoms in return. So a balance has to be met.

Blood blossoms have a mildly unsettling appearance. Their namesake, "blood blossom", comes from the blood red appearance of their petals, which start out as a vibrant red but steadily grows darker with age similar to blood drying on a page. Their stems, leaves, and thorns are, rather than green, a rich black-purple color. The center where the pistil sits is the typical yellow, however, it takes on the appearance of a yellow eye peering through the petals.

Blood blossoms emit a sweet, fragrant scent that allows them to not only attract bees, but also break down ectoplasm for consumption. See, what it does is that it discharges some of its pollen into the air, which then "latches on" to ecto. As the pollen begins to float down to the ground, the ectoplasm then sinks into the soil for the blood blossom to then draw into its roots. It gives the ectoplasm a physical body to latch onto, which it then uses to consume it.

Despite having a symbiotic relationship with ambient ectoplasm in it's natural habitat, the interactions it has with ghosts is an entirely different story. To ghosts, Blood Blossoms are terrifying, opportunistic parasitoids capable of consuming spirits whole if given the chance. Ghosts give off significantly more ectoplasm and when the blood blossoms sense that, they emit more pollen in order to consume it. Which is where the whole "blood blossoms are natural ghost shields" thing comes from.

Their sweet scents and vibrant colors made them popular upon discovery for perfumes and dyes, and when eaten taste sweet and slightly bitter, almost irony. Which is another reason for their namesake. During the Salem Witch Trials it was theorized that blood blossoms could expel the sins/demons from someone's body when consumed and prevent possession, or when surrounded by the roses, would trap the demons inside it's host body which would then be burned to banish it back to Hell along with the soul of it's host.

Which made them incredibly popular in executions, exorcisms, and Mass.

They could grow anywhere in the world so long as there was an adequate amount of ecto present.

Surprisingly enough, they do not commonly grow in or around gravesites due to a competitor flower nicknamed "rest in peace lilies" which, despite their name, are actually from the asparagaceae family and have more in common with bluebells. They're more modernly known as everlast bells. Ghosts prefer them over blood blossoms because they have a similar effect on ghosts as poppies do on the living where it sends them into a restful slumber. Hence their nickname "rest in peace lilies". The dead loove them.

In the Ghost Zone, their effects on the dead are far more potent than when they grew in the living realm due to the excessive amount of ectoplasm. They also grow much faster, so ghosts treat their appearances on islands similar to how one treats mint or kudzhu after finding it growing in their lawn: with extreme prejudice. And a lot of terror. Ghosts tend to rip them out when the flowers are not in bloom, or burn them when they are.

Their appearances in the Zone aren't much different than what they looked like in the living realm, with only a few mild changes like their thorns being sharper, their petals being more angular, and their eye-like center actually looking more like an eye. It's theorized that the Infinite Realm versions of blood blossoms gained very mild sentience, just enough that it almost feels like their eyes follow you when you pass by them, like a painting. Nobody is willing to test that theory.

To a ghost, getting caught in the hooks of a blood blossom means a slow, agonizing death akin to thousands of needle-sized mouths eating you all at once. The pollen doesn't stop until the ectoplasm is all broken down. Blood blossoms in the Ghost Zone are very much capable of eradicating a ghost entirely, core and all, with no chance of return. No passing go, no reconstruction, just complete oblivion.

Danny, prior to his poisoning, had severe allergic reactions when in physical contact with blood blossom in his human form. Rashes, blistering, hives wherever the blossom had physical contact with, inflammation, you name it. Luckily that hadn't been something he needed to worry about since they're, well, extinct.

[lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me]

⋆୨♡୧⋆l-l-love🤢⋆୨♡୧⋆

as y/n walked to the hybe cafe, she immediately spotted riki, a head above the rest. so tall she could point him out in a crowd anywhere. she took a deep breath and took a moment to compose herself before eventually walking over to him. she tapped him on his shoulder as he was facing away from her. "oh! hey!" there it is that smile. to say she loved his smile would be an understatement. she thought it was the prettiest thing she'd ever seen and she nearly felt as if she was going to die at the sight of it. she couldn't help but smile back at him. "hey! how are you?" what he wanted to say was "so much better now that i'm with you", but what came out instead was "good. yeah, i'm good, what about you?" his eyebrow raised, it was single handedly the cutest thing y/n had ever seen. "i'm pretty good. doing a lot of schedules for debut, you know, usual stuff" could she be anymore awkward? clearly yes. first "thanks you too" and now "usual stuff" she felt like she wanted to disappear right then and there, but riki absolutely loved it. this whole time he thought she was so cool and calm, but really she's cute and awkward, which he secretly liked more than if she would have been chill. he finds himself staring at her for a moment before quickly catching himself "oh um- did you want food? I didn't get any cause i wasn't sure if you'd want anything." she smiled at his thoughtfulness and said "no thanks, i'm not super hungry right now. thank you though." he thought back to their conversation yesterday, the whole reason why they're here now. "so, you wanted some tips about mcing?" he asked. "oh! yeah. im kind of nervous, i have no idea what i'm doing and you've ben an mc before, so i was hoping you could give me some advice?" she was hoping this didn't come off as pathetic or anything. i mean, who needs advice on how to talk into a mic? y/n apparently. "well," he starts "for me, i find its best to interact with the fans while waiting for our speaking parts. it calms my nerves before speaking because i'm talking to people that support me. often times it's mostly your own fans watching you in person. that’s at least what sunghoon told me. and if you're worried about messing up lines or something, I'll be there to cover for you, reading from a prompter is hard, so if you mess up its okay. don't worry too much about it." she nodded along to his words, taking mental notes on his advice. "thank you, i really appreciate it. i don't know why im so nervous. its just talking into a mic to a camera." she sighs. "I mean, I understand. it's nerve wracking when it's your first time. I felt like that too when I mc'ed for MAMA one year. it can be scary talking in front of a bunch of people and trying not to mess up. that's why you have a co-host, me! if you do mess up, I can cover you so it doesn't look too much like an accident." her heart fluttered at that. over something so small? she knew it was corny, but she couldn't help it. she felt so strongly for him. she always thought that if she actually talked to him, this whole little crush would go away. but to her surprise, it only got stronger. "you know, since we're going to be working together, we should get each others numbers." her heart stopped, and so did his. hers in shock, and his in fear. what if she said no? what if she thought he was weird? did he really just ask her for her number? there's no way. she froze for a moment, but realized she really should probably respond to him "yeah! yeah of course!" riki was never more relieved in his life. he handed her his phone "here, put your number in." she took it from him and put in her number, texting herself. "there. i can send you a picture for my contact photo later" his heart raced, he had just gotten his crushes number, and she's going to send him a picture of herself later. could his life get any better then this? "okay, sure, yeah, that sounds good" he stammers. is he really flustered right now? oh my god she thought. as the two talked and laughed together, they figured out they're more similar then they thought they were.

the pair quickly growing closer in just mere hours, both feeing significantly strong for each other than when they first said hello earlier. as the time drew later, the two decided to end their night, quickly realizing the ghost town that the hype cafe had become. "oh- well, its late, and my members are blowing up my phone asking where I am" she laughed as she scrolled through the countless messages left by yunjin and hanni. 'yeah, I should probably go too. I told jay I'd help make dinner tonight" he sighed, wishing he didn't promise jay anything and he could hang out with y/n for longer. she laughed lightly "ill let you go then. text me though, okay?" what had come over her? did she really just say that? (y/ns version of flirting was a bit different then others, that being because she didn't know how to flirt) riki nodded and smiled "yeah, I'll text you. see you later!" he waved to her and started to walk away. she waved back and watched him go. she sat back down and sighed once he was out of her sight. she was so fucked. she was completely and utterly melted by him, and they had only just official met yesterday. maybe there was something wrong with her. but frankly, she didn't care. maybe she was being delusional like usual, but she was pretty sure she could see something there with riki.

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luckys note!: guys i’m so good at writing😎😎

© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📍) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

(🩷) MIDNIGHT FICTION TAGLIST! @nctislifue @akuspic @pkjay @siya-bean @eun-chaez @wavetosunoo @gweoriz @luminouskalopsia @soobiary @ivyannemarie @rikikiynikilcykiki @emma2black @enh4ht @wooziswife @jjunie-0 @yumilovesloona @wth121 @riksaes @isaxshin @allforhee @rikisgeef @sunghoonsarmpit @autumn583 @tzuyusluv @lukesboo @anormieee @rockyhedgehog @thomawifey @lovrqis @akashisthighs @just-a-girl-with-hyper-fixations

(dm me/comment under the midnight fiction masterlist to be added!)

[yanderefreak1213]

Vee's World! (Yandere Shellvision)

Tws: Kidnapping, Forced affection, bondage, constant spying, Villain Vee, Murder, possible gore, Body horror,Abusive relationship, Manipulation tactics, yandere themes, Obsessive thoughts, Possessive thoughts. All around this is gonna be a heavily dark fanfic.

These acts shouldn't be supported in real life, I just wanted to try my hand at horror and my own version of One-sided Shellvision that involved Vee being the one inlove. Description of the story:

Oh no! Dandy's has gone missing! Quickly scrambling to find a replacement they chose Vee and made it into 'Vee's world'. Vee managed to keep their cartoons going, and kept them alive, Vee took control of the whole company though, even managing to out-rank the toon's creator..

The toons are however happy, and even the workers are happy...Ish. They only issue is- Vee has eyes everywhere, un-happy workers tend to..Disappear. The toons don't question it nor do they seem to mind Vee's constant viewing. However a certain catches the Gameshow's host's eye. The fossil toon, Shelly, However..Shelly starts to seem on edge with Vee...Can Shelly escape or is she forever stuck with the tv show host. ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It was dark in the store, complete black out infact! An Elevator dings, as toons stepped out. Vee smiles as she steps out ahead of the group, causing the group behind her to wait before she gave the all clear "Alright, guys...The machines aren't hard to locate. Remember, we all still have shows tonight so lets get this done fast." Astro and Sprout didn't question much as they hurried off, you see blackouts happen often and while usually the staff fixes it. They were busy with preparing things tonight or they've gone home...So Vee figured it'd be good to get the main characters out for a bit to do it.

Shelly was still at the elevator with Pebbles who nudging her, Vee gave a disapproving frown "Shelly? Why aren't you moving?" Shelly jumped at Vee's sudden voice "Oh- nothing, Vee...Just uh...Not a big fan of the dark I guess...Heh.." Shelly looked around nervously.

Vee sighed a bit, she felt annoyed and was tempted to just leave the fossil toon at the elevator but for some strange reason she couldn't bring herself to do that, despite having pebbles with her, Vee still felt...Concerned? She looked at Shelly "Okay, here's what we'll do then...I produce enough light. Why don't you just stick with me? There's only four so we'll get them done and the lights back on quick. Deal?"

Shelly seemed suprised at the offer, before nodding "Sounds perfect, Vee! Thank you so much!" The tv show host just scoffed before leading the way with Pebble and Shelly following...Ever sense Dandy disappeared the mains are altered who takes Pebbles...However Pebbles tends to prefer Shelly it seems, it was weirdly comforting to Vee to know Shelly has a good guard dog now. The poor toon is too soft hearted to defend herself...

Vee felt a bit irritated when Shelly stayed mostly quiet...Usually the girl was talkative..If she was going to burden Vee with following her she could atleast keep her entertained, so Vee took upon herself to make some "So,Shelly....I've been sitting in on your segments lately." Shelly's attention instantly focused on Vee "O..oh Uh..Have you? How'd I not notice that?.."

Vee shrugged "I don't sit through the whole thing..Anyways..I've noticed you seemed nervous." Vee's focus went to locating the machines for a moment before her gaze focused back on the Fossil toon "You always give nervous glances to some of the staff." It wasn't a secret some of the staff were awful to Shelly, Vee just noticed recently after Astro told her.

She knows it's never been physical but she's not going to let one of the main characters be bullied by something so...Small as a human. Shelly shifted a bit "Oh. it's nothing Vee..Just a little er..Nervous with a crowd I guess." She forced a smile "I uh..Was actually wondering though, uh...I know my segment isn't...As popular as the others but is there uh..Anyway maybe we could invest a bit more money to revise my show room?.." Shelly looked like she was about to be scolded for asking with how she cringed back a bit.

Vee just gave her a look before looking ahead "You should've said somthing sooner, yeah sure. We can discuss that more after the shows tonight if you wanna tell m what you had planned." the other brightened a bit looking suprised "Wait- Really, oh I'd love that Vee!"

Vee shrugged "You don't need to thank me, Shelly regardless of how your segment is doing if you feel like there are things that need improvement on it you should always tell me." Vee hummed "I am glad you brought it up though because I would like to re-work your place a bit...It's so dull.." Shelly nodded a bit "I liked it at first but uh..Now its just..Lacking and it doesn't really feel like a kid's place..Heh.."

Vee nodded in agreement "Right, so after the gameshow tonight I expect to see you in my room so we can discuss remodeling." Vee felt a bit of pride when Shelly lit up. And it continued on like that.

They finished the machines and managed to meet up with Astro and then found sprout who was doing the last one. Shelly let out a sudden gasp scaring Sprout "Sorry Sprout! I just uh...Realized I forgot to finish the script for my segment tonight.." Vee felt her eye twitch in annoyance "Really?..." Shelly looked at her "I didn't mean to..Me and Tisha just got caught up in cleaning I guess..Heh." that struck a nerve with Vee, ofcorse it was Tisha who kept her busy...

Vee's tail lashed slightly, Tisha was an issue for her...Not only was she the only toon constantly rebelling against her, but she was constantly taking Shelly's attention and keeping her distracted... Tisha was a problem...

Before Vee could say anything Astro spoke "I can help you finish them, Shells.." he gave her a soft smile....Vee doesn't see it often...Why is he directing it at Shelly?...She doesn't like that...She...Wait, why does she care?

Vee scoffed "No, once we're done here you need to be on time for your sleep, you duties tonight with toon's dreams...I'll help Shelly finish her script, I already finished my stuff so I have time to kill.." Astro nodded meekly before shooting Shelly and apologetic look.

Eventually the lights came back on letting everyone go back to the elevator, Shelly and Vee went back to Vee's room to finish her script, though the whole time Vee just felt...Annoyed about Tisha...Who is that tissue box to sit here and act like she can talk to main character AND distract them from their duties?

....She didn't get why she was so mad...Really she didn't. Eventually the two finish the script and even started talking about the redesigns in Shelly's veiwing room.

When they were leaving Vee's room Vee made eye contact with Astro...He seemed concerned....But jumped when he saw Vee looking at him as he quickly hurried off. Shelly's giggling caught Vee's attention as she looked over to see the Fossil toon knelt down playing with Pebbles....Vee couldn't help the small smile at the cute sight. Before quickly wiping it off her face when Shelly looked at her "Well, I guess..I'll see you uh..Later? Did you still want me to come by after the show?" Vee just nodded "Obviously, I still have some questions for your showroom." Shelly just nodded excitedly before hurrying off. It make Vee question why no one in Shelly's area asked for renovations...Vee never denied suggestions unless they were overly stupid...She sighed before walking to her own filming area. Her thoughts still linger on the fossil toon....Why was Vee so focused on her...? And why was Astro acting weird around her?..

[misteria247]

2012:

Turns out trying to find anything on Gravity Falls was surprisingly difficult Dipper and Mabel were quick to learn. The town was small enough that it wasn't on any road maps, nor was it really visited enough to be talked about much. Online searches yielded very little for the twins, and often times led to dead ends. Much to Dipper's annoyance. But that wasn't the only thing that bothered him about this whole mystery.

Other than keeping it on the down low from grandpa Shermie, (who Mabel and Dipper both agreed should be kept out of the loop. He'd hid the picture after all and if they were going to solve it they'd have to keep it to themselves), there was another thing that bothered Dipper.

The name Mcgucket.

For some strange reason that name sounded familiar. Though Dipper for the life of him couldn't figure out why. It was as he was sitting in his and Mabel's bedroom that the answer came to him. Dipper was sitting on his bed, a little journal full of evidence of this mystery opened before him as he chewed the end of his pen thinking. Mabel was laying on hers, listening to some kind of true crime podcast to pass the time. As Dipper read the voice of the host played in the background.

"Cold case number 12. The disappearance of inventor Mcgucket. Not much is known about it, other than the last sighting of him-"

Dipper about dropped his pen.

"Mabel! Turn that up-!"

The younger twin said, voice rushed. Mabel who was knitting a sweater while listening somewhat, jumped at her brother's voice before doing what he asked. Once up the two zoned in on the voice, listening.

"While the case was dropped by the Oregon police department, Mr. Mcgucket's ex wife, Emma-May had continued the search for the missing man. However, she would never find him. The case has long since gone cold, however resources say that the only son, Tate Mcgucket, is still trying to find any information on his missing father. If you have any information please contact-"

Dipper was already writing down the number to contact this Tate Mcgucket. Mabel sat, a sudden dawning realization in her dark brown eyes.

"That's why the name Mcgucket was familiar! It was a news story back in the 80s! Grandpa Shermie mentioned it that one time!"

Dipper paused remembering the incident. The children had been younger and their parents were talking about old cases from back in the day. And their grandpa Shermie, not really thinking about it had briefly mentioned the Mcgucket missing persons case. Though when pried for more details their grandpa had closed off immediately. Not wanting to talk about it anymore.

'Was it because he personally knew Fiddleford Mcgucket? The same guy from the photograph?'

Dipper thought puzzling it out. Mabel sensing her twin's curiosity slowly pushed their shared cellphone towards him.

"Only one way to find out Dipping Dot."

She said giving him a look. Dipper stared at the phone, before looking back at Mabel nodding. A determined gleam in his gaze. Picking up the phone he stared at the number he'd written down before punching it in and pressing send.

Somewhere deep in Oregon by the Gravity Falls lake, an old landline springs to life. It's shrill ringing echoing throughout. A young man, reading a magazine, let out a tired sigh before reaching over to answer the phone.

"Ello, this is Mcgucket Fishing shack how can I help you?"

What he heard next made him grip his phone, magazine falling into his lap.

[cerealboxlore]

ok so just imagine one of the younger jl members or yjl members decide to ask the older members why they decided to become a hero/their origin story and some of the members are answering, some preferring not to, giving different sorts of answers but they all chose to use their circumstances to become a hero

and then they get to marvel

of course marvel has the nature? i guess? of a hero with his whole “do good and good will follow” thing but he never really wanted to be a hero in a fair few versions (i think, don’t source me), he was chosen but didn’t do the choosing

when he was “offered” (in quotation marks because he was basically forced into it anyways, his consent was dubious at best) he basically said ‘no, i’m not the right guy for this’ but was pressured into it anyways

rather than deciding to be a hero, it was more like he decided to do good with what he had, and what he had were superpowers

so just imagine them asking marvel why he chose to be a hero and marvel saying “i didn’t”

(depending on the age you depict him as getting his powers could make some difference, my automatic age for him being chosen is like 9 for some reason)

High time I answered this amazing ask, holy cow it's been cooking in here for some time

I really love the idea of a younger JL/YJL member going around and coordinating interviews with the older superheroes and getting their origin stories and asking questions on why they decided to become who they are today. Perhaps after all the news and stories they've heard from a certain popular radio host, Whiz Kid, they wanted to be like them a little with this personal project of theirs.

Every hero they ask either gives them a simple answer of "it was what I was meant to do", or, "I want to help people", or "eh, I had free time, why not". There are some that refuse to answer (batman), but that only makes the interviews become more fun and exciting. The young hero is learning so much from their elders, and once they get to Captain Marvel, they think his answer is going to be a delightful and sunny one, as expected from a cheerful guy like him.

They expected his answer to be simple, maybe even adding some humor to it. Like, "Well, someone had to compete with superman" or "it was my biggested dream to become a hero just like my heroes".

But.

They don't get that kind of answer from him.

"Hm? Oh, I didn't."

"...Huh? I'm sorry, excuse me, but, what? What do you mean you didn't choose to become a hero? Why are you a hero now when you didn't want to be?"

"Oh gosh, I didn't expect this kind of question, but I guess...well it's because it wasn't exactly planned. There was never really any chance for me to have a choice in the matter. I didn't choose to be a hero, I just chose to do good with what I had all of sudden, you know? I never thought of becoming a hero until it actually happened, and I didn't know I WAS a hero until people starting calling me one. Ha, can you believe that? Really blew me away hearing people of my city call me their hero. Me, of all people."

"...huh. That's...really incredible, Captain Marvel. But, what do you mean, you didn't have a choice in the matter?"

"ha...well, let's just say that some things are just meant to happen, and they can't be avoided, no matter what....yeah...."

The younger superhero then sees what they swore was a split second melancholy emotion drown Captain Marvel's eyes, then just as quickly disappear when the man excuses himself to leave.

Gosh that got a little angsty there for a moment, but I really enjoy the idea of Captain Marvel initially refusing his powers and not believing himself in being worthy. He really was pressured into those powers, and he deserved to know what he was in for before being made Champion of Magic. A warning, before Billy entered a world of his heroes, and his worst nightmares.

Maybe the wizard knew that if the child knew what dangers were to come, perhaps he would have refused. Or. Maybe it was pointless to tell Billy, because the soul of a bright hero and a pure heart, radiated that much within Billy, that the wizard knew he would be a hero no matter what in the end.

[kinky-pen]

Got any general Ouran headcanons?

More disorganised, general thoughts!

Tamaki:

When Tamaki found out about renfairs, the whole host club wasn't just dragged to one (I don't believe they're a thing in Japan, but I may be wrong), Tamaki made them help him organise one. Yes, Kyoya had thought he'd escaped budgeting for Tamaki's whims in adulthood, and yes he felt stupid for thinking that.

Paints his nails frequently. It's an activity he finds fun, but he also repaints them constantly because he changes his mind about the colour constantly! He also wants them to match his outfit, and god forbid he plan ahead.

Was raised Catholic in France, but finds much more love for the aesthetics and community than the religion himself.

Haruhi:

Haruhi was always androgenous, but she embraces her gender nonconformity and identity even more as they become and understands themselves. Lots of lovely suits, both masc and fem. (They do use all pronouns, also, but use she/they the most)

Keeps the short hair!! I know she grows it out in the manga, but the short hair is nicer, more in character, and Haruhi said on multiple occasions that they prefer it.

When she's a lawyer (not if, let's be real), she's actually scary good at employment law and making sure companies compensate and treat their worker's fairly (comrade Haruhi, everyone)

Kyoya:

Keeps a sketchpad handy a good portion of the time. He found art really relaxed him, and he's pretty talented at it, but he'll keep it to himself as it's something he actually considers for him, not profit or prestige.

Has had a crush on every member of the host club, at some point, except Hanni for obvious reasons (boo, you whore)

Has diagnosed depression, and is half convinced he has a personality disorder of some flavour. He can be a bit of a hypochondriac, however, and his doctors haven't confirmed anything as of yet. Who knows.

Hikaru:

Dyes his hair constantly, all sort of colours. Like Tamaki and his nails, Hikaru recolours his hair very often - as soon as he gets bored of it. It got to the point where he dyed it four times in a month, fried it all off, and had to get a buzz cut. He eased up a little after that.

Loves getting tattoos. He's one of those people that really love the sensation of it, and he also gets a cool piece of art on his body forever! Yes there's something wrong with him, he's seeing a therapist!

Loves spending time in his office, tinkering about with new things - whether it be finding new ways to put together certain pieces of hardware, or coding new software. He can disappear in there for days straight, sometimes (he has a mini fridge stocked with drinks and snacks, don't worry)

Kaoru:

Goes through phases of growing out his hair, then cutting it all off again. Changes hairstyles frequently. When you're head of a designer brand, you do have to balance keeping up with the latest trends with setting them, and I think Kaoru does well with both sides of that.

Loves flower arranging (which is semi-canon), but it's something he keeps up his whole life.

Kaoru actually does have some """mild""" HPD (that's the phrasing he uses, but he generally means he's high functioning) he's just like me frfr

Mori:

This man matures like a fine wine. Will always be attractive, honestly. He went from hunk to DILF to GILF effortlessly.

Still wins Judo competitions and such well into his early fifties, but decided to retire from competing at 53 due to some joint issues. Still keeps it up for fun and health, though.

Had a bit of a revelation about putting his foot down and protecting his boundaries during university. It actually helped him a lot with the self destructive tendencies he has in canon.

Hunni:

Living his best life with his goth wife! He just adores that girl so much and she'll kill for him! (Ask her to kill for you, Hunni, she really wants to)

Takes up baking his own cakes, which does actually save money in the long run - not that they need to worry about that.

Had a similar revelation to Mori in university, caused by Mori standing up for himself more. He realised that he can still be true to himself and what he wants, without running roughshod over those who care about him. He can still be a little selfish, but better than what we see in canon.

Also, as this is a kink blog and I don't really want to encourage engagement from people not into NSFW/are minors - please only 'like' this post if you're the aforementioned :)

[mpregandproud]

The winning goal

“It's been six months since anyone on his team has heard from him. His departure was a shock for the Eagles at the best moment of the season. One of their star players surprised everyone by publishing a statement on his Instagram profile announcing that for personal reasons he had to leave for now the team where he has been playing since he was 15 years old.

We are talking about Adam Owens, of course. 25 years old. One of the jewels of the Eagles' school of players. He has been ascending during these last 10 years of categories until reaching the first team. He has won the league four times and has scored 34 goals in seven seasons. Big numbers

Those who know him intimately say that he is the soul of the team, one of the most encouraging to his teammates and one of the leaders in the locker room. Although he has always been very shy and reserved in front of the public, the Eagles' fans are crazy about him. The younger fans wear jerseys with his name and he is one of the most promising players of the moment.

Today, in this program, we are not going to debate the reasons for his departure. We are not going to go on ruminating about the reasons why a successful player decides to disappear overnight without giving any explanation. Today we are going to talk to the player who has made the most headlines in recent months. Today we have Adam Owens on Sports Talk”.

This is how Alexandra Gonzalez, the host of the successful Sports Talk program, the most watched sports program in the country, introduced Adam Owens, the soccer player of the moment. This interview has been announced with great fanfare by the television network in recent days. The expectation is at its peak, 15 million viewers are expected to follow live the most awaited interview of the moment.

The rumors about one of the most important soccer players of the moment have reached the whole world. No one in Owens' entourage has spoken out in recent months. His parents, his brother, his friends… no one has wanted to say anything to the press. Owens has not posted anything on his social profiles since the day he released the statement announcing that he was leaving the Eagles for personal reasons.

The team, for its part, said Owens only explained to them that it was personal reasons that led him to leave the team. After a few weeks of waiting to see if he would return, the Eagles signed Tom Logan, a promising young player to replace him on the team.

There were many doubts and this interview was announced as the perfect opportunity to clear all doubts. Alexandra Gonzalez is known to be an incisive journalist, the kind of journalist who always gets her interviewee to open up and talk, so it was clear to everyone that all doubts would be cleared up that very night.

- Good evening Adam. Thanks for coming on Sports Talk. Thanks for giving us the opportunity to be the first media outlet to talk to you. First of all, how are you feeling?

- I'm good, I'm good. Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to talk. I'm feeling good. I think I have put in order all the things I was going through and this was the moment to talk.

- This is the first interview you've given since that January 5 when you published the statement on Instagram, how has it been to keep silent during all this time?

- Complicated, I'm not going to lie. Making a decision like the one I made took me a long time. My partner helped me to assess all the pros and cons, to evaluate what was the best option for me and my career. So I told Eagles management that I was stepping away from the team for personal reasons and that same afternoon I announced it to all the club's followers on Instagram.

- Just like that, with no other reasons? From the Eagles we have been told all this time that you have not given more explanations than the ones you gave to the public. You didn't tell them what the personal reasons were?

- No, I thought at the time it was better not to say anything. I am going through a very complex personal situation and I don't think I had to go into details at that time.

- Not with your fans either?

- Neither, at that moment I needed to get away from everything, disappear and spend as much time as possible with my partner, my family and my friends in private.

- Do you think the soccer world might not understand your reasons?

- I don't think so.

- Don't you? -Alexandra was surprised by the answer. It took her a few seconds, but she continued with her question, she wouldn't stay without knowing something else- Being you one of the most loved soccer players by the fans, by those of your team and those of the rival teams, don't you think they would have reacted well?

- No. You see, the world of soccer is my family, my life, but it is also a very traditional world that asks men to play a very specific role. When you don't fit into those pre-established canons you can be the subject of insults in the stadiums and sponsors may not want to support you anymore. I know it would be a small minority, but they can make your life miserable.

- So you made that decision to protect yourself and your family, I guess?

- Yes, you could say that. I didn't want my family, my partner or myself to go through a complex time to manage that could do us a lot of harm. Maybe it was all prejudice on my part, but I was really afraid, and I thought that disappearing for a while would be the best solution.

- Is that time over today?

- Partly yes, although I haven't finished my process yet.

- So, if the process you are going through is not over, why not wait a little longer to talk?

- Because I have understood that I can't keep quiet any longer. My environment, the same one that supported me when I told them that I wanted to get away from everything, has been encouraging me during all this time to take the step and to talk. They have been the ones who have convinced me that I can help more if I speak publicly. That's why I contacted you a few days ago to come here.

- I have to tell to our viewers that you and I have talked a lot these past days. I have been a few days ago in your house meeting you and your partner and you have told me everything. So if you want, let's go little by little so that the viewers at home understand everything well, -that was the first time in the whole interview that Alexandra smiled, in a way it seemed that she empathized with Adam. Knowing her hardness with the interviewees, this could be interpreted like an affectionate hug-. Where do you want us to start?

- I think we can start with me, with my story.

- Okay. You started playing soccer at a very young age. You come from a family of athletes, your father a well-known soccer player, Edward Owens, and your mother a gold medalist in gymnastics at the Olympics, Natasha Fredriksen. You had everything to succeed…

- Yes. My story begins like many success stories in sports, someone who comes from a perfect family and is lucky enough to have a gift for being good playing soccer. Since I was a little boy I have enjoyed playing soccer very much, it has been my way to escape from reality. When I get dressed to take the field I forget everything. For those 90 minutes I'm Adam Owens, the Eagles' star soccer player. I don't like everything else about soccer as much, especially when it conflicts with your personal life.

- What happened?

- As I told you before, soccer is a very traditional environment. We men have to follow the “alpha male” prototype. We are the role model for a lot of guys. And, apparently, we have to raise them to be brutes. Sensitivity or diversity is the exception on the soccer field.

- Why does this affect you so much?

- Because I'm gay. -Adam said earnestly but very forcefully.

After pronouncing those words he fell silent, Alexandra did not interrupt him, she let him be. In a few seconds the seriousness of Adam's face transformed into a smile from ear to ear. It looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You could tell he had been wanting to say this publicly for a long time. Although he was not the first to come out of the closet in the soccer world, he was very the first top male footballer to say he was gay. Alexandra didn't say anything, just smiled, waiting for Adam to continue the interview.

- It is not easy to utter these words, and to do so in front of millions of viewers. But it was time to say it. I have often felt the urge to say this out loud. I've talked about it many times with my teammates, with the board and with my family, and they told me that they supported me 100%, but I was never brave enough to say it out loud.

- What has changed so that you are now taking this step?

- My life. My life changed. I have experienced a 180 degree change in the last few months. My priorities have completely changed. I have understood that I can't expect others to always give me their validation. If they don't like what I have said, if they don't like my private life… I can't do anything. I am happy, immensely happy, and this is me. Whether you like it or not.

- A man who is here with you on the set today is one of the reasons for your happiness. Do you want him to come in and follow the interview with you?

- Sure, let him come in.

At that moment Víctor Sánchez, the Olympic swimmer, entered the set. The fact that Victor Sanchez was gay did not surprise anyone, he had been out of the closet for a few years, but the fact that he was Adam Owens' partner did. A couple of handsome and successful athletes who for the first time were together in front of the cameras. Victor, tall, with a broad back and a tight T-shirt that left no room for imagination walked in determined and with a smile on his face. As soon as he sat down next to his partner, he shook his hand and raised it to gave him a tender kiss.

- Victor Sanchez, ladies and gentlemen. No need for introductions, I think our viewers know you very well. Next month they will be following you at the Summer Olympics where you aspire to revalidate the four medals you won four years ago. You are, we can already say, Adam Owens' boyfriend.

- That's right -said Victor- we've been a couple for few years. When I came out of the closet I was already his boyfriend, we had just started a relationship and for me it was the right moment to say publicly that I am a gay man. I am aware that in my sport it's easier to do this than in soccer, so I never pressured Adam to take the step. We've been in this together and we're going to continue to be in it together, now more than ever.

- "Now more than ever", Adam, this interests me. Because we can tell our viewers that your homosexuality wasn't the reason for leaving soccer, there's something else that, even if they don't believe it at home, will surprise them even more. I want you to tell the camera what it's all about.

- The time has come -Adam said looking visibly nervous. He was shaking, smiling, but shaky. Although the shot of him didn't show more than his face, it was clear that he was holding Victor's hand tightly as if for courage. He closed his eyes for a second and continued- I'm going to get up and show what it is, it will be easier.

Adam let go of Victor's hand and resting his hands on the armrests of the armchair where he was sitting, he stood up. The camera zoomed out and something was visible that didn't fit the physique of a professional footballer. The blond-haired, blue-eyed boy with an enviable muscular physique sported a huge round belly. His chest was more swollen than the last time he could be seen publicly. His hips, thighs and ass had increased in size as well.

Adam brought his hands to his belly and cupped it in a gesture that no one had any doubts about anymore. “Adam Owens is pregnant,” is the conclusion everyone came to at that moment. It was also the headline that the television put on the screen.

- We are going to be parents of two children in two months if everything goes well -he sat back down on the couch. Now the open shot showed his whole body and his partner as well. All the cards were now face up. The rumors were over in one fell swoop. Adam Owens, the star soccer player of the moment was about to become a dad with his partner, Victor Sanchez-.

- Congratulations guys. You make a beautiful couple and you will have the cutest babies -said Alexandra, really excited. She knew she was in for the interview of her lifetime, but for some reason it seemed that her happiness was genuine. Behind the tough reporter was just another spectator who was happy for Adam and Victor and what their story could mean for the world of soccer and sports-. But I have to ask you, how does a top footballer, in his prime, decide to get pregnant?

- We've been dating for a little over two years and as an established couple. We both knew we wanted to have children. We wanted to start a family together. Almost all my teammates have children, so why shouldn't I? After months of talking about the possibility of being parents we were clear that we did not want a surrogate, ethically we do not see well that another person lends his body to carry our children. We saw the possibility of adopting very slow, the process is very long. So, having the opportunity to get one of us pregnant, we decided to do it this way.

- And how does a couple of men, both in the prime of their sporting careers, decide which of them will sacrifice their careers to carry your babies?

- The decision was easier than you think, -said Adam, looking at Victor and smiling-. The Olympics have decided for us. Victor qualified, but I didn't, the national soccer team didn't get in. It was clear to us that I was the best choice to carry our children.

- Didn't this add more pressure to your possible outing?

- Yes, but I didn't think about it at the time. I was so excited about being a father with Victor that I didn't really think about it. I started to worry when I took a test and it came back positive. Then I realized how important was what we were going through and what it could mean for me and my career. With the pregnancy I knew I wouldn't be able to play for a while, I assumed that when we started trying to become parents. But even though it was clear to me, I didn't feel I had the strength to give so much explanation all at once: to come out of the closet and announce that I was pregnant with twins. The possible consequences terrified me. So I did what I did. Maybe I was wrong, I don't know, but I did it for me, for us, and for the family we are creating together.-Adam said-.

- In fact, that moment of such a clear decision he made to get pregnant with our children was what I reminded him of a few weeks ago. Because of that he made him click and called you to give this interview -added Victor, patting Adam's shoulder to comfort him.

- Victor has been fundamental in these months. He understands me perfectly, he knows me better than anyone. He knows how difficult what we are doing is. He has known how to respect my time and take care of me. I could not have found a better boyfriend and a better father for my children. Thank you for everything, my love. -Adam said, giving his boyfriend a kiss-. I don't know if this will mean that my career as a top-level footballer is over, but if I don't play again because I came out of the closet and became a dad, it will have been worth it. Right now my priority is my three boys, my family.

- Guys, this is a beautiful moment, but I have a call to introduce. Good evening Scott Harrison, president of the Eagles soccer club.

- Good evening Alexandra -said Scott-. And good evening Adam and Victor, congratulations from the bottom of our hearts on the good news.

- Mr. Harrison, how did you take the news that Owens shared with us tonight?

- The news, well, I was only surprised by one of the two. We at Eagles already knew that Adam and Victor were a couple and that our player was gay. For us this was never an issue, as Adam said before. We have discussed it many times with him and we have tried to do our best to make him feel like a very important part of our club.

- What about the pregnancy?

- I didn't expect it. I'm not going to lie to you. I had been thinking for months that we had done something wrong with him and I didn't know what it could be. I also thought he, or someone in his family, had a serious illness. I called him several times to find out what was wrong, but he didn't return my calls. Now I understand everything, and I understand him. But I have to tell him something. Adam, son, Eagles is your home, we are your family, you are one of us. You always have been, and you always will be. I want to tell you that as soon as you give birth and recover completely, you will have the opportunity to play with us again if you want to. We are still counting on you.

- Thank you very much Mr. Harrison -stammered Adam. The boy was visibly moved. He was crying with happiness. With the fears he had, he never thought his team would react this way. He put his hand to his mouth, while Victor leaned over him a little to put his arm behind him and wrap it around him in a comforting embrace.

- Of course, I want to, in a few months, when I recover, I will be back to training and playing again, for sure. I'm sorry to have worried you and the fans. I hope you can forgive me.

- There is nothing to forgive. We all know what the world of soccer is like, that's why we need people like you to be playing so that other players later on don't have to go through the fear you went through. You are an example for everyone. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, I hope to see you soon and give you a big hug.

- Thank you Mr. Harrison -said Alexandra- I think this call is ideal for us to put an end to our interview. Thank you very much, Adam and Victor, we wish you the best of luck in your careers and in this adventure of becoming parents.

- Thank you for helping us so much and for making it so easy for us to open our hearts -said Victor as Adam wiped away his tears at Scott Harrison's call.

- He is right, without you we could not have done this so naturally and easily. Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. And thank you to everyone for understanding and supporting me, supporting us. I promise you that from today, this footballer, because I'm still a footballer, is a little better because of you -said Adam looking at the camera-.

- Beautiful words. Today many of you may have been surprised with this story, but it is one of those stories that we always like to bring to our program. The human side behind elite sport. Those stories that make us better people. Thank you for joining us tonight, we will be back very soon. Goodbye, see you soon.

[thanotaphobia]

diplomatic affairs

It's Missa's first time at a Federation-hosted Summit. His goals are pretty simple, all things considered: 1. Don't spill any state secrets. 2. Be of service to his kingdom. 3. Don't die.

And apparently, a secret fourth thing: Don't fall in love. It's not as simple as it looks.

introducing my first multichapter qsmp fic letsfuckinggooooo

crossposted to ao3

⋆

Despite all appearances, Missa doesn’t actually like crowds. He finds them hard to get by in, whirling languages and words spiraling around his head and not so much confusing him as they do overwhelm. 

Add alcohol into the mix, and some people would consider him a downright introvert. He doesn’t drink often, but at a party like this, with people in shimmering dress and glittering jewels, he thinks that not having a champagne flute in your hand is something like social suicide. Across the room, Missa watches a woman in a soft, blue velvet gown effortlessly hand off an empty glass to a servant and take another off their tray, sliding herself back into conversation with a graceful smile and a tactful touch of her gloved hand to a chunky necklace weighing down her neck. He wishes he could be like that, like the men in uniform talking at the front of the room, the tittering groups of confident people around him. 

But he’s not, so he sips the same glass of champagne he’s had for the past hour carefully and finds an open set of balcony doors. The golden light of the ballroom casts long strips of honey onto the stone floors and out across the railings, disappearing into the cool night air of the gardens below. Missa escapes into the space, where the noise is dampened some and the warm stuffy air is replaced by a cool breeze. 

He leans against the rail, staring out. Above him, stars glitter. Below, the whisper of palace gardens and beyond that, the shimmering lights of a city spread out on the hillside. Another reason he feels so awkward: this is not his home. His home is a two week carriage ride away, and he feels the distance acutely.

In his grasp, his flute swirls left and then right, almost lazily. He watches the liquid inside it slosh around, and lets out a soft huff of air. It’s not even bubbly anymore– long gone flat. Missa lifts it to his lips.

“Excuse me,” someone says behind him. Missa jumps– the rim of his glass bumps against his teeth and he just barely manages to bite back a cry of pain. Instead, he just makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and raises one hand to cover his mouth. When he turns, a blond man is standing, haloed by golden light coming from the ballroom. He’s looking at Missa with two blue eyes, wide with alarm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” Missa says. He means it– the pain is already receding, and he tongues over his teeth to make sure he doesn’t taste blood. When he doesn’t, he lowers his hand from his mouth carefully. “Ah– it’s okay! I’m okay.”

“You sure, mate?” the man asks, stepping forward. “Can I get you something?”

“I’m fine,” Missa says, dipping his head quickly. “You just– startled me.”

“Not the intention, I promise,” the man says, holding two hands up and laughing a little. “I was just going to ask if you wouldn’t mind some company.”

“No,” Missa says. He’s better at one on one interactions, but an itch of anxiety creeps up inside him anyway. “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Cool,” the man says. He steps up to the railing beside Missa, and he gets a closer look at the man’s face– slightly lined, blond hair tied back into a small ponytail at the base of his skull. He looks worn, but not defeated. A red flower is pinned to the lapel of his suit jacket. Missa glances down at his own, and the blue flower on his own. “So how have you been enjoying it?” the man asks abruptly, once again startling Missa out of his own mind.

“Enjoying…?” Missa trails off, a little confused.

The man looks over at him, raises a brow. “The talks?”

Right. Right. The whole reason Missa’s here. He wants to press his palm to his forehead and cool the rushing blood that comes to his face, but he tries to compose himself and succeeds by looking out over the city below them again. 

“The talks,” he manages to squeak out. “They’ve been good, I think.”

“I saw you in a few of the sessions this morning,” the man says. Missa looks over at him, more serious now; he studies the man’s face again, and realizes quietly that he also has seen him around. “Missa, right?”

“Yeah,” Missa says. His name has no title–  it was a clause of neutrality that all titles should be dropped when in the house of discussion. He searches his memory for the man’s name and struggles to put a name to him. “And you’re…”

“Phil,” he says, holding out one hand. “We haven’t formally met.”

Oh, now he knows this man.

Missa shakes the hand of the Angel of Death and is very, very brave about it. A decorated soldier, although the shiny buttons that would insinuate his status have been left at the door. He’s heard lots about this man, Philza Minecraft– Phil, apparently– and most of it has been incredibly bloody. But the man himself stands a slight inch shorter than Missa himself and while he holds himself with confidence and decorum, he… isn’t very scary. Might be the contrast of his red flower to his blue eyes, Missa thinks. The red doesn’t suit his face.

“It’s good to meet you,” he says.

“First time at a Summit?” Phil asks. Missa balks, but only for a moment.

“How’d you know?”

“You look nervous. Everyone looks nervous, their first time. It’s alright, it’s just the first introductions this morning, the opening gala now, and then everyone buckles down tomorrow afternoon for the real shit.”

“How many have you been to?”

“Oh, a few.” At that, Phil grins at him, half his face caught in the light. “So what do you think of it all so far?” 

Missa mulls over the meetings he’s attended in his head. He glances back at the ballroom, eyes the waiters gliding around on silent feet with faces covered by white gauze, then says, “I think there are a lot of strong people on all sides.”

“Huh. I can see why you’re here.”

“It’s true,” Missa argues. “Each of us seem to have our problem starters and our problem solvers. I like to think we can come to a good conclusion, but at the same time, I don’t know.”

“Too early to tell?”

“I am hopeful for peace.” 

“Same,” Phil says. “But like I said, I’ve been to a few of these and nothing’s happened yet in the past fifteen years, so.”

Missa has to concede his point. It might be his first time attending one of the Summits held by the Federation of Unity, but they’ve been happening for years now. And despite the constant talks of peace and love and no more war– it’s continued on anyway. By now, the Summits are basically just glorified parties for the elite, where they can shed their royal cloaks and crowns for a fortnight and pretend like they all like each other. Missa has heard some wild tales of what happens at these things, but so far it’s been pretty tame. He feels almost paranoid to step out of place, especially under the watchful, faceless gazes of the waiters.

“Don’t sound so excited,” Missa says dryly, despite it. Phil laughs, bending over slightly as he leans against the rail, and smiles out into the dark. 

“It’s fine,” he says, dragging the word out. “We’ll have some fun, spread some rumors. Charlie Slimecicle and Mariana will fuck, probably.”

Missa chokes, nearly drops his glass. “What?”

Phil laughs again, turning around and squinting. Then, after a second, he raises one hand and gestures towards the ballroom. Missa turns around and looks where he’s pointing, rising up onto his tiptoes to see through the crowd.

“Charlie’s with me,” Phil says, and Missa spots Mariana after a second, then another man next to him with brown hair and glasses, a red flower on his jacket. “He and Mariana have consistently uhhh, well. They’ve been… together, yeah let’s go with that. They’ve been together for the last like three Summits and had screaming fights every time.”

This is news to Missa. “I know Mariana,” he says, watching enraptured as Slimecicle leans in and whispers in Mariana’s ear. “He never said–”

“Nobody really talks about it when we’re not here,” Phil says. “What happens at a Summit stays at a Summit.”

“Seems dumb,” Missa says, shaking his head. “Aren’t we supposed to– to cooperate?”

“One would think,” Phil says. He looks over at Missa, eyes flicking down. “Hey, are you going to finish that?”

Missa looks down at his half-empty, flat champagne. “Oh. No. Do you–”

“Sure.” Phil takes it from him and downs it with ease. Missa watches, the light striking against his Adam’s apple as it bobs, then Phil lowers the glass from his mouth and lets out a breath through his teeth. “Alright. Let’s get you another one.”

“I don’t drink,” Missa says quickly.

“It’s a party, mate,” Phil says, “Of course you drink,” and Missa doesn’t argue further as he’s herded inside like a cat. He thinks going against Phil wouldn’t be the smartest move– and he would be lying to himself if he wasn’t a little curious. Phil finds a Federation waiter and takes two glasses from them, handing one to Missa. He takes a little sip and the bubbles burst like candy on his tongue, the sharp tang of alcohol making the inside of his mouth and the back of his throat warm. Phil is watching him, and Missa watches him back in turn.

“So what’s your role?” Phil asks. Missa blinks.

What is his role? It’s not something he’s thought too much about, although perhaps he should’ve. His role is support, he thinks. A shoulder for his teammates to lean on, brought by direct order of the king. He’s pretty sure he was a last minute addition, the first new person– he has to stop, remind himself not to even think about his country’s name– the first new person the blues have brought in a few years. Of course he’d caught the attention of someone like Phil. Maybe that’s his role. A distraction.

“Diplomacy,” he says, but he’s pretty sure the long pause before his answer gave away the thought he put into it. Internally, he curses himself. 

“Pretty sure we’re all here for that,” Phil points out, a brow raised.

“Exactly,” Missa says, hoping he comes across smoother than he feels. He’s not lying, at least. “So why do you… why do you look surprised?”

“I don’t,” Phil says, despite looking skeptical throughout this whole conversation. Missa’s about to open his mouth again and say something, probably something stupid, when something catches his attention. A blue flower pinned to a jacket, approaching at a quick pace, the face above the lapel a familiar one. Missa stands up a little straighter and Phil clearly notices, glancing over his shoulder as a short young man with two-toned brown and blonde hair.

“Hello, gentlemen,” he says, sidling up to their conversational space.

“Your–” Missa remembers a split second too late they’re on Federation territory, and quickly recovers with, “You’re here!”

“Sure am, bossman,” Tubbo says, looking at him with a quizzical expression. “We did arrive in the same carriage after all.” Phil coughs into his hand, covering a laugh, and Missa feels his cheeks go red. Thankfully, Tubbo turns his attention to Phil and Missa can relax somewhat. “Mister Za.”

“Tubbo,” Phil says genially, raising his glass at him. “Long time no see. How’s the weapon of mass destruction going?”

“Hey now,” Tubbo says, grinning and elbowing Phil in the side. “Hey now, Philza, I’m sure I didn’t hear you right, did I? Did I? Talking politics at the opening gala?”

“I would never,” Phil says, resting his hand lightly above his heart. Missa lifts his own glass to his mouth and swallows a large mouthful. For some reason, with Tubbo’s arrival, he feels like he might need it. 

“I see you’ve kidnapped our newest attendee,” Tubbo says, and Missa sends him a mental message over their brainwaves and with the slightest widening of his eyes– help me. “Mind if I steal him back?”

“All yours,” Phil says, but Missa doesn’t miss the way the man looks a little disappointed.

“You can pick his brain for info at a later date,” Tubbo says, grabbing Missa’s arm. He’s shorter than Missa by a hot minute, and he almost has to bend down for it to actually make sense. “Until tomorrow, old man.”

“Bye, Tubbo,” Phil says. He smiles at Missa, the crow’s eyes crinkling at the edges of his temples. “Nice to meet you, Missa.”

Missa barely has time to squeak out, “You too,” before Tubbo is dragging him away. Once they’re out of sight, Tubbo heaves a giant sigh.

“Man, that guy is an asshole,” he says, and Missa splutters.

“He seemed nice.”

“He’s a manipulative prick. And a deadly one at that. I’m just glad you don’t know enough to accidentally spill any important beans. The beans must be contained, Missa. Keep it straight. Or, at least– keep it honest.” Tubbo gives his arm a little shake as Missa digests all that. He barely has a moment before there’s another weight on his other side, and he looks down to find Tina clutching his other arm.

“Missa!” she says cheerfully. Her cheeks are rosy and her hair is done up intricately on top of her head, crowned with a few flowers. Her dress, a brilliant gauzy pink, flows around her legs like water. “Who were you talking to! Tubbo, who was he talking to?” 

“Philza,” Tubbo says before Missa can answer her. She gasps.

“The angel?” she asks. “No way! He’s so scary.”

“He wasn’t that bad,” Missa says quickly.

“That’s what he wants you to think,” Tubbo points out. “It’s all part of the game here. Make you think he’s not so scary, make you trust him–”

“And then he stabs you in the back!” Tina says a little too loudly. She even makes a stabbing motion to go with it, her wrist twisting out into the open air in front of them. Missa pats her arm. He has no idea what to think anymore– even if Tubbo and Tina are right, Phil had still been cordial, and isn’t the whole point of a Summit to come to agreement? 

“Tubbo,” he says, turning slightly to look at the other. “Tubbo, are we even here to…”

“To…?” 

“Work together?”

Tubbo’s eyes furrow and his brows draw tightly together. “Missa,” he says. “You know it’s… well, it’s complicated. But sure, we’re here to work together.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Missa asks, and Tubbo, who has pointedly not been looking at him for the past thirty seconds, pats his arm and breaks away.

“We can talk about it later, my guy. Now, everyone says the opening gala isn’t meant to be political, myself included, but let’s be real. Everyone’s digging for info. It’s my turn. You guys have fun, don’t get too wasted.”

“Okay, says you,” Tina says, rolling her eyes. Tubbo grins cheekily at her, turning away. Missa is left bereft, still bursting to the brim with questions but his mouth is sticky and tacky, not wanting to move. The cotton in his throat is hard to swallow past, so he just takes a long sip of the dry champagne. It does nothing to loosen his tongue, so he takes a bigger swig and is surprised to find the flute empty.

Tina’s been talking at him for the last thirty seconds, he realizes. 

“–says that when last time he was the one to get so drunk he couldn’t come to the meeting the next morning. So they moved it this year, so all the discussion takes place in the afternoon tomorrow to give us time to recover! It’s Tubbo’s fault! It usually is– I think the Federation really doesn’t like him, but who am I to tell?” She giggles, hand over her mouth. “Don’t tell them I said that though. Or Tubbo. He’s a fan of the Feds, or at least, one Fed. If you know what I mean.” 

Missa has a feeling he does not know what she means. The champagne flute has apparently magically left his hand. The world is dancing around him, ghostly lights flickering in front of his eyes. Tina seems to notice his distance and reaches up on her toes to pat his cheek– the force of it drags him back down to earth.

“Man, you good?” she asks. “Did that angel say something to you or what?”

“Phil?” Missa asks. 

Tina raises a brow. “Is that his name? I thought he was a Minecraft.”

“You don’t know?”

“I dunno, I’ve never been brave enough to ask.”

“He approached me,” Missa says. “On a balcony.”

“He sniffs out his victims that way. Ooo, do you want to hear a rumor I heard about the reds? Something about toxic gas–”

“You know we aren’t supposed to gossip.” A new voice cuts through them, and Missa jumps about twelve feet into the air, yelping a little. Behind him, Bad laughs, coming around Missa’s right. “Oh, sorry Missa!”

"Oh, not this guy again," Tina complains, scoffing and rolling her eyes. “I can gossip all I want, mister party pooper.”

"Hey!" Bad frowns. "I thought you were better than that, Tina."

“Nope,” Tina says. Missa smiles at his two friends– people he knows are safe. They’re an island in a raging ocean of confusion right now, with languages and people surrounding him like hungry sharks. Missa is a fish out of water. But Tina and Bad bickering? That’s the most normal thing in the world.

“How are you, Missa?” Bad asks, looking at him. His hair has been pulled back into a slick ponytail, glasses perched delicately on his nose. As Missa watches, he pushes them up with one finger. “Anyone bothering you?”

“No,” Missa says, deciding not to tell Bad about Philza. He thinks that would be unwise. Tina also keeps her mouth shut, thankfully, and Missa’s heart swells with fondness. “Just enjoying the night.”

“It is beautiful out here,” Bad says, turning to look at the crowd of dancers. Then he glances around again, a frown sneaking onto his face. “I’m not the biggest fan of the Federation workers, though. I always forget how creepy they are.”

“You’re being mean, Bad,” Tina says. “They’re just workin’!”

“I don’t like not being able to see their faces,” Bad explains, and Missa can understand that. Occasionally he’ll catch a glimpse of a Federation waiter out of the corner of his eye, and something about the stark-white uniforms and fluttering gauzy mask makes his whole body startle. 

“Just stay out of their way,” Bad says, patting Missa on the shoulder. “And you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not nervous,” Missa challenges, even though he’d expressed the exact opposite to Bad on the way here.

“I know a good way to calm down,” Tina says, smirking. She grabs Missa’s hand and jumps up and down a few times on the balls of her heels, face flushing red like roses. “Come dance with me! Come dance with me!”

“I can dance with you, Tina,” Bad says.

“Nope, no thanks,” Tina says. “I want to dance with Missa. Come on, come dance!”

“Oh, I don’t–”

“You can’t say no. I’m literally vetoing it,” Tina says firmly. “We can’t let those lessons Tubbo got you go to waste.”

“Fine,” Missa says, laughing a little as Tina laughs with glee. If it makes her happy, he doesn’t mind. Plus, the alcohol he’s consumed makes him a little looser, a little more eager to say yes. He’s in a foreign country with his friends and free reign to let loose for one night– no politics, no duties, no stress. Missa feels something lift from his shoulders, even as Tina’s hands settle into place and lead him out onto the dance floor.

“Have fun!” Bad calls out behind them. Tina sticks her tongue out where only Missa can see, and he laughs with her as they fall into step together, dancing like second nature.

“He’s so dumb,” Tina complains, and Missa lets her talk until she gets tired of talking. He likes Tina a lot– she’s comforting, and smart, and cool. She seems so confident all the time, and he knows from experience how sweet she can be. Eventually they’re both just dancing in silence except for the occasional humming from Tina, spinning in circles with a dozen other pairs.

“Tina,” Missa finally says, a question bubbling to the surface. “Earlier, Philza mentioned– Charlie and Mariana?”

“Oh yeah,” Tina says, blowing air into her cheeks. They puff up like a chipmunk, deflating as she lets out a stream of air. “Old news.”

“What about you?”

“What what about me?”

“Do you have anyone here?”

Tina goes quiet again. Missa almost thinks she’s crossed a line before she tugs him down a little. He puts his hands on her waist, lifts her a half-turn, her dress whirling like a cloud at sunset.

“Her name’s Bagi,” Tina says, right at the point where Missa is about to faint with anxiety.

“Oh,” he says, then sighs. Thank goodness. He glances around, once, twice. “Point her out?”

Tina purses her lips and he lifts her again, her hair dusting along his eyes this time. She giggles when he sets her down, and they dance another room length before she nods. “Over there,” she says, her eyes locked onto someone across the way. “She’s green.”

Missa looks, and finds a woman and a man in the direction Tina gestured; they’re talking– arguing, more like it, based on the way he’s gesturing and she’s standing there with a sour look. The matching streaks of white through their hair is interesting, as is the fact she’s green and he’s red.

“Her?” Missa asks.

Tina nods, a dreamy look in her eye. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“The guy’s Cellbit. He’s a jerk. Don’t talk to him.”

“Are they–”

“Siblings. It’s a long story. Ask Bagi sometime. I’ll introduce you two.”

“Okay.” Missa smiles, and she smiles back. He’s starting to get tired of dancing, and Tina apparently is too, but the music switches from something upbeat to a slower song and it’s easier then.

During this is when Missa looks over, and finds Phil watching him. He’s standing beside two other men, one of which has a shock of white hair and a fluffy white cravat, the other bald and intense. They’re both wearing green flowers and talking amongst themselves, but in the moment he finds himself watching them, Phil is staring right at Missa through the crowds.

He catches his gaze and feels himself flush. His heart literally skips a beat, feeling as though someone’s reached their hand inside his ribcage and squeezed. His breath catches– he quickly looks away. Some people come between them and, when he glances over next, Phil isn’t looking anymore. He’s talking to the two green men, animated and smiling.

“You okay?” Tina asks. When he looks down at her (heart racing, pounding, cheeks burning) she’s smiling at him, kind and sweet and familiar. He takes a minute to calm his nerves and straighten his spine.

“Yeah,” he says. Tina laughs and spins him around, her gloved hands like ice on his shoulders.

The next time Missa looks over to where Phil had been standing, the man is gone.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

hi and welcome, it's new theory time wunce agayne, with I, your host, BTQ, stitching things together that maybe fit perfectly or maybe have no business touching at all: you decide!

Today's post inspo began several days ago when I started playing the Xadia game and discovered some cool lore that I just could not stop thinking about, so here, below the cut for all the spoiler reasons, is a screenshot of what you can find in the game, and what I would love for it to mean!

Topic: How Aaravos was tricked into that mirror prison

Context: We all wonder what happened to Luna Tenebris, how she died, where she went, all that good stuff. This isn't about answering those questions. This is about what she did before she died, and why. If she died at all (yeah that's always the question with Moon beings innit)

If you've played the game you'll know the context for this screenshot:

Ethari says, "Someone with the power to influence the Blood Moon itself used blood magic to become... something else."

and, well,

Luna seems to have disappeared during a Blood Moon. But she might not have died, despite what everyone thinks- she might have just become something else.

Why would she do this?

I'm guessing it wasn't for fun. Something desperate must've been happening. Luna disappeared 300 years ago, hmm, what in the world could've been happening at that moment...?

No, we all know.

You remember the Jailer. She's a human. No arcanum at all. She may be a dark mage, or she may just be a trickster magician. Either way, her whole deal is that she thinks outside the Cosmic Order box - she thinks in ways even Aaravos can't. And human ideas in times of desperation can break a lot of conventions and even taboos - just look at the things Viren, Claudia, and Callum have done when they had to.

So if the Jailer is thinking about dark creative solutions as the only way to trick a godlike Star Touch elf, maybe one of those ways was to get the Archdragon of the Moon to turn into something else, with magic that worked outside the laws of the Moon Arcanum.

We've all seen what Kim'dael can do - her Moonshadow powers and her forbidden magics are available to her at any time, not just during a full moon. Now imagine that ability for a blood magic archdragon.

Yeah.

Why the Queen of the Dragons, though?

I think they needed that much power to combat Aaravos. No one else could've done it with the confidence to succeed. And then there's the whole Moon theme of sacrifice, which all the Moonshadow elves keep demonstrating so determinedly. Surely their dragon queen has the same sentiment, deep down.

This still doesn't tell us what she did. But if she could use her massive illusion/deception powers at any time, they could trap Aaravos in any instant of their choosing instead of luring him to the predictable full moon. And seeing what sort of shenanigans are possible in the game when Moon creatures step outside their boundaries, well, there is certainly a lot of room for surprise there. In several directions. And they'd only have to surprise Aaravos once.

(side note: I can see now why Amaya says Moonshadow elves are the worst kind lmfaooo PLAY THE GAME IT'S SO FUN)

This whole theory feels very Moonshadow because even though I have this central nugget that feels plausible, I still wonder about so much more. For instance, what happened to Luna after this? Where is she now? Did she willingly die to keep from turning into a monster? Is she stuck in the spinning water that bears her name on the map? Is she alive somewhere still, lurking? Is she- NO SPOIL ME I JUST STARTED THE GAME. Idk if she's in there or not, shh.

Anyway. I haven't been able to stop thinking about this lore since I saw it in the game. And there's so much more than this even in the small bits I've played so far! If you're into the lore of The Dragon Prince, you'll wanna get this game!

But, serious lore enjoyer face. This one's extremely fun to think about.

[priestly-prince]

I wanna know about Cult eader John, what's up with him?

So the first thing to note about him, is that he isn't 'possessed' in the same way that other demon hosts are. It's instead a perfect merging of his consciousness with The Unspeakable. It's his own thoughts, his own memories and motivations, his own personality, but with all his inhibitions lowered, his negative traits exaggerated. Only slightly at first, but it deepens over time. His desperate need to be loved becomes a desire to be worshipped and served. His anger, while still quiet and restrained, becomes more volatile and destructive. He's more likely to act out of spite for selfish reasons. He's more likely to indulge in hedonistic activities. As time goes on, he becomes more manipulative, tyrannical and eventually, outright evil.

As for his MO, well. Have you ever read scp 093? You know, where they explore the empty, apocalyptic land on the other side of the mirror, and they learn the backstory of what happened to make everything abandoned, and it turned out that some thing appeared from beyond and pretended to be God, and the people prayed to it and worshipped it and built a religion around it and did increasingly terrible things for it, and in return it granted them a 'gift' which they used to heal and purify themselves, only for everyone to turn into horrific monsters and destroy the world?

That. That's what Unspeakable John is like.

Gary continues running the cult as things are. He just scoops up those who have already been outcast on the fringes of society. But John... He has his sights set on loftier goals. He returns to the church, becoming a priest again, and for a while it all seems normal. He's recovering from his trauma, he's growing as a person. Healthier, stronger, more mentally sound. He seems so enthusiastic, and so much more outspoken and charismatic than he used to be. People are so taken with him. Everyone wants to attend his services, even people from other churches. Even people who don't usually go to church. They just find him so compelling and comforting.

As things go on, he starts to develop something of a messiah complex. He wants to 'save' these people (by whatever twisted standards The Unspeakable considers them saved, at least) but also, naturally, wants them to adore him. Once he has their attention and loyalty, that's when he begins the "miracles". Small at first, he'll have a doctor's visit to check up on him, only to discover that the scar on his knee has disappeared. In fact, his whole knee is completely healed. He can walk unhindered again. He can run, jump and dance. A miracle. He'll then offer similar things to the congregation. Going from small things like removing scars and blemishes, up to healing sickness and wounds. And then eventually, like any good manipulative tyrant, start putting these miracles behind 'paywalls', making more and more extreme demands of his followers to prove their faith and loyalty, until eventually, with them completely at his whim, he sends them to Gary to receive The Unspeakable's gift.

That, of course, being the same gift we're familiar with from chapter 3, with the injection. Some of them go on to become acolytes, whereas the less useful among them are kept as thralls. Anyone who resists are to be used as sacrifices to summon forth more demons. The overall goal is to raise an army ready for the profane sabbath, then the order intends to begin the process that ends the world.

So yeah, that's the general overview for it, ye.