#writers block is a beast and the anxiety does not help

[afewproblems]

Getting back into it (writing and tumblr) and hoping to post a Lil one-shot hopefully tonight!

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 3

This fic assumes Mishima isn't a confidant, the reader is the Moon arcana instead, keep this in mind.

word count: 6.3k words, SFW

- Admin Myah

Over the next few weeks spent with Akira, or… Joker, as he seemed to be called when the situation demanded, you learned that the world was much more complicated than you ever could’ve dreamed. Sure, you praised yourself for being a little less of a sheep than the idle-brained teenagers of your everyday life who thought of nothing but gossip, status and appearances, but now you felt insignificant, like you’d been asleep all this time until Akira, Ryuji and Ann had placed six symbolic hands upon you, and shaken you to life. Layers upon layers, he explained the subconscious world that lay beneath, which ached to be revealed, only to those who’d open their eyes.

＊

It’d been a rush, your first time in the Metaverse. You’d insisted to Akira, though he protested, that you wanted to see what all of this near-unbelievable nonsense he was explaining was all about. He’d never taken non-Phantom-Thief confidants into the Metaverse, and he was hesitant, silent for a long while before deciding that your help was worth the risk. After all, he’d already told you everything, and they had no way to erase memories… yet.

You remember Akira taking your hand, the skin on skin contact. Up on the school’s rooftop with Ryuji and Ann flanking you, Akira had told you it was a precaution, to make absolutely sure that you transferred into the Metaverse with them and landed in the same place. You had to be touching one of them, for your safety, and he’d eagerly volunteered. With the cat in his bag seeming to smile at you over his shoulder (an occurrence which made you feel like you were going looney already) he tapped an app icon on his phone, some scary red little square, and with that, your body lifted, began to float, or so it seemed. Red completely consumed your vision, red and black ink like those blobs you’d seen the Phantom Thieves appear from when this all began. You gasped, stumbling back a step as if you could escape the all-encompassing wave, and Akira, sensing your trepidation, squeezed your hand slightly.

The rooftop faded, and you felt like a character from a videogame fast-traveling to their destination. Almost as fast as it appeared, the trippy red and black sludge subsided, and before you sat a dark, dreary scenery. A castle, one that obviously belonged to a malevolent ruler sat amongst a purple sky and the smell of despair.

“What the…” your mouth hung agape for a second, taking in your surroundings before letting your eyes trail down to where your hand met Akira’s. Assuming you no longer needed it, you shook him off gently, not even sparing a glance his way, and his eyebrows creased just the smallest amount, not that you noticed. You were too focused on the giant cat before you, knee-height, with a round, bulbous head. “Is… are you-?!”

“Much more handsome and dashing in this form, wouldn’t you say?” Morgana - now confirmed - gave you a sly look as you leaned down to his height to run your hand along the fur on his head.

“Wow… so cute!” You cooed.

“Hey! Stop it! Stop it! I am a warrior and to be taken seriously!” he whined, shooing away your hands, his fur on end.

“Ha!” a sharp laugh rang out behind you, and you turned to see that Morgana wasn’t the only one who’d made a drastic change. Ryuji was now clad in some kind of leather pirate’s uniform, his demeanor far more fearsome and a skull mask across his face. Ann donned a skin-tight body suit and cat mask, and Akira wore a lavish long coat, red gloves, and a masquerade mask. He looked like a magician from some fairytale, or perhaps the leader of some band of Robin-Hood-inspired band of vigilantes… although you supposed that was kind of what he was now… either way, he would make amazing source material for your main protagonist. Such swagger, a commanding presence… he didn’t seem to exactly be the same Akira you’d met earlier.

＊

The trip to the Metaverse was almost completely uneventful… almost. Just once, when you’d begged Akira to press forward and show you the inside of the castle, something called a “shadow” attacked, and you got to see the band of thieves in action. It was shocking, leaving chills running down your spine. Here were your classmates, people your age with ghost-like spirits materializing at their backs, flipping through the castle’s corridors, shooting guns and slingshots and magic at terrifying beasts. It was all so fast-paced, so stunning, that your body locked up witnessing the battle. A shadow spotted you in the background, defenseless and clearly not part of the Phantom Thief entourage, and taking the petty opportunity only a sore-loser on the ropes would take, struck out against you. You shrieked, your hands uselessly coming up to defend your face as if it would help. Akira’s eyes widened, his reflexes so much faster in this realm, and turned on his heel, diving in front of you to deflect the blast of frosty energy swirling toward you. It bounced off of the side of his large steel dagger and ricoheted back at the shadow. After assessing the situation and asking if you were okay, Akira decided it was time to return you back to the real world. It was too dangerous for someone without a persona to wander here. The thieves would return later, once you were safe at home.

＊

Anyway, now you believed him, you knew everything he was saying, about Kamoshida and his fucked up mind, about confidants, personas and metacognition was real and very much a serious matter. Now all that was left was to decide just how you could help them, what kind of deal you could strike with the clever leader of the Phantom Thieves. Of course, he didn’t expect you to get something and give nothing.

It was decided that you’d offer your knowledge as a writer to help with negotiation and charming shadows in the Metaverse. You’d turn those golden lines you wrote on the pages into real-life lessons, and Akira would learn to seduce shadows, to out-smart them, to persuade them to give up everything they had: their money, precious belongings, even their very selves. He would flirt, threaten, intimidate, any honeyed word or silver-tongued method he could use to make deals with shadows go along more smoothly. Perfect. It would help him out immensely. But, what did you want, he’d asked again.

It felt embarrassing, now that you were put on the spot, forced to disclose it, but although those “golden words” translated well into lessons for others, you found that you couldn’t as easily take your own advice. You struggled with human interaction in your real life, especially of the romantic kind. You could write a healthy relationship out on paper, create the ideal love interest from scratch for a story, but stumbled along words like some socially incompetent fool once it came time to apply that knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, these days even getting true, realistic romantic moments down on paper was a struggle. The well was drying up, writer’s block, as you’d explained it to your online friends. It was near impossible to make something from nothing, and you had nothing. No real romantic experience. You couldn’t help but think this was the route of the problem. Your writing, your precious romance novel would flourish, if only it’s author wasn’t completely clueless.

“Date me…” You mumbled, surprised out how your long moment of pensive introspection had accumulated into this clunky statement.

“What?” Akira let out a breath he’d seemed to be holding the entire time, just watching you think on what method of reciprocity was worth your help. Losing your nerve at the incredulous tone of his voice and the raise of his brows, you shrunk back a bit, ready to defend your words.

“W-wait!” You held a hand out between you. “Not really. I mean…” how to word this…? “Like, fake!” He looked even more confused than before. You released a noise of frustration. “What I mean is, you take me on dates - fake ones - stupid little stuff couples do, for my writing, of course…” You looked toward the ground, suddenly extremely interested in your shoes.

“How does that benefit you in any way?” He smiled, a bit forced, a blush dusting his pale cheeks.

“Well I- I’ve been having writer's block lately. I mean sure, I can give you lines and lessons from my previous works, drabble and things I’ve learned, written down in the past, but I have no fresh material. Stagnation is every writer’s downfall, but I have no experience, I need more to go off of… and then maybe I can even transfer what I discern from our… interactions - er… dates I mean - to you. Does that make sense?” You looked up at him hopefully.

“Uh… no,” Yeah, you knew it didn’t, but that’s all you had for him. His hand shook, much less confident as Akira than Joker, and he shoved it in his pocket.

“It’s hard to explain, I just… that’s my deal. Will you take it?” You clutched your bag a little closer to your body. “We don’t even have to tell anybody. I just want to experience it… going out… with someone…” It sounded a little more pathetic now that you were actually hearing yourself. You both stood in silence, Akira contemplating your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you as a person… it was just… complicated…

“Give me a day to think about it,” he spoke quietly, giving you a polite send off before parting ways.

That night, anxiety set in as you rolled around in your bed restlessly.

Did you sound like a creep? Were you being unreasonable? Was this asking too much of him? Does he think you’re crazy? You’ll probably never hear from him again. He’d probably rather find a way in that crazy Metaverse to erase your memories so he can forget the awkward exchange ever happened. Maybe he’ll kick your shadow’s ass one day.

You debated going to school the next day.

＊

Akira’s night, though not as horrendous as yours, was not a peaceful one. Like so many nights, he found himself awoken to the clink of a ball and chain, dressed in striped rags as he stood and walked to the bars of his cell. The twins were waiting, as always, anger in their eyes.

“Look alive, prisoner!” Caroline spoke.

“Our master would have a word with you!” Justine chimed in. Akira looked up, meeting Igor’s large grin.

“You’ve forsaken a bond, Trickster. One must ask, why?” Igor’s hands splayed over a deck on cards on his desk.

“Huh…? What do you mean?” Sleep lingering in his mind, and confused as to why he was here this time, Akira replied.

“I’ve told you, the bonds you strengthen over time and the new bonds you form, they will be what wins this fight. You can only complete your mission, save all that is, through the support your confidants provide, so why have you abandoned this bond?” Igor’s fingers folded together, hands clasped, a show of disappointment. “Now is not the time to not try hard enough.” Was that a hint of frustration in his tone? If so, he didn’t show it.

“...I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Akira rubbed one eye lazily.

“You’re not trying to understand, worm! Wake up!” Caroline’s fist banged down across the bars, startling Akira slightly. He looked to Igor again, who held up a single card between two fingers. On its face sat two wolves, both howling up at a glittering moon.

“The Moon.” Igor stated plainly. “Illusion, fear, anxiety, intuition, uncertainty, complexity, secrets, the unconscious mind. A friend, a possible lover, someone unsure of themselves and others. Creativity, shadowed by doubt. Someone who supports others but not themselves.” As he spoke, images of your face flashed in Akira’s mind. Igor threw the card into the air, catching it upside-down, letting the wolves fall into the moon, swimming in its glow. “Reversed: release of fear, repressed emotion, clarity, misinterpretations overturned. Someone who can fix what was upright. But you’ve passed over the opportunity.” Igor swipes his free hand in front of the card, and it disappears.

Scenes play out in Akira’s head. Confrontation with shadows, confrontations with real people, but these aren’t real… or rather, haven’t happened yet.

He receives clarity.

The Moon has more to offer than lessons on charisma, seduction, trickery, persuasion. His intuition will grow, his ability to perceive things before they happen, the ability to read and understand people, and be understood in return. Other bonds will grow, empathy will grow. More friends, closer friends, a flash of blue hair, white uniform, red hair, headphones, then a tidy uniform, a Shujin uniform, gloves, a beige jacket, and finally bouncy curls and a soft, high pitched voice. With your help, the Phantom Thieves can grow. Bonds will strengthen. Complexity, Igor had said. More than meets the eye. Was there more to you? You weren’t too bad, obviously intelligent… a bit odd, but kind enough, and he did find you cute… but pretending, a fake relationship? How could a fake bond strengthen

The card reappears, as if out of thin air, and Igor points to one upside down wolf.

“Me.” Joker whispers, as if guided by an unseen force. Igor points to the other wolf.

You.

He awakens with a start, nearly knocking Morgana off the bed. He has an answer for you now.

＊

He finds you at school the next day, huddled in the library and not where you’d said you’d meet him. You’d been dreading this, waiting for the rejection, your hand trembling slightly on the book in your hands. He sits across from you, a look of determination on his face. Waiting for him to speak was torture.

“I’ll do it.” He holds out a hand, waiting for you to shake it, seal the deal. A contact has been signed.

＊

Your first date with Akira is clunky, unpracticed, unprecedented of course. He doesn’t know much about what to do, either, so he takes you to Le Blanc for dinner. Some coffee and curry, maybe a soda and some conversation on the side? It couldn’t be too bad, right? That’s what dudes do, he thought, bring their... pretend sweetheart somewhere for dinner, right? Sojiro is teasing, of course, wondering who this new person was, why Akira was holding their hand. He smirks like a dad proud of his boy, and Akira, too embarrassed under Sojiro’s scrutiny now to sit down and serve you curry, rushes you upstairs.

After being dragged by the hand up rickety old stairs, you end up in Akira’s room alone. You look around, taking in his sparse decorations, humble belongings. It then strikes you that you are, in fact, alone. Alone with a boy in his room, for the first time in your life. You didn’t know how you got here, and so fast. Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe you just needed to calm down. This was part of the process, right? Real couples did this, to get to know each other. He beckons you over, gestures for you to sit on his bed with him. You’re hesitant, but Akira isn’t making a big deal out of it, and you’re not really alone, with Morgana right there, so you sit, as far from him as you could be on the surprisingly soft bed. Struggling for words and new to dates himself, Akira decides to treat you first and foremost like his friend. That makes this all easier.

He spends the next hour or so describing Mementos, his mentor Igor, the twins. He wants you to know everything, and it surprises him. His other confidants, save for the actual Phantom Thieves, don’t know anything about the hidden world their bonds are healing. He describes the arcana to you, the tarot, the way his soul resonates with The Fool, Ryuji The Chariot, Ann The Lovers. His doctor friend is Death, Sojiro the Hierophant. Morgana here is the Magician, and proud of it. He explains how he feels a bond with them, as he now does with you. They make him feel like he can do anything. You’re included in that now. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks. How could he say that so casually? It wasn’t like it was a love confession or whatever, but you had trouble seriously telling your online friends you appreciated having them in your lives without adding a joke or meme in there somewhere. Why did he even need your help? He seemed well spoken. You said so, voicing these opinions aloud.

“Huh.. you know, I actually don’t usually talk this much,” he smiled. “Must just be you.” He was only half teasing. You looked away nervously, feeling the need to change the subject.

“S-so, what am I?” You began to stroke Morgana’s fur, and this time he didn’t seem to mind.

“You mean your soul?” He scooted a bit closer.

“Yeah.” It didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Moon.” He replied softly.

He spent the rest of the night explaining the levels of Mementos, and some of the wicked people whose hearts he’s had the displeasure of seeing inside, but the absolute pleasure of changing. You say you aren’t surprised so many people are walking around so hurt inside or eager to hurt others. When the “date” ends - neither of you having even gotten that promised coffee or curry downstairs - you’re touching, sitting shoulder to shoulder looking at the moon outside his window with Morgana on your lap. The room seems a little warmer, a little less humble. Akira mentions with a sheepish grin that it’s getting late, and offers to walk you home.

Rank Up!

＊

You sit in your bed that night, Akira now having returned to Le Blanc, and think about if this will make good writing material or not. You had to have learned something, right? There was something to be gained from every experience… but you can’t help feeling like you’ve warmed up to the thought of Akira a bit more… not too much, however. You smiled to yourself at the thought of The Fool, tricked into dating the Moon, for all it can offer him.

He’d been so awkward at your front door when he dropped you off. You could tell he had no clue what to do. He was frantically looking around. People in movies kissed their date at this point, cheek or lips, depending on how the date went, right? He confessed that he’s one of those people who truly don’t know anything about romance, like you’d mentioned earlier in one of your conversations. You tell him it’s fine, that you didn’t expect anything, that you just met the other day. He thought he was being clear, dropping hints that he might want to peck your cheek, just a quick gesture to kick off your fake relationship, but maybe he wasn’t as slick as he thought. The hints seemed to go over your head. Maybe he really did need help.

＊

Your second date comes in the form of you begging to go back into the Metaverse for some inspiration. He fights you, bringing up the last time a shadow attacked you, but you are persistent. He gives in, taking you to the highest rung of Mementos, where the shadows are weak and he can keep you safe adequately on his own. It is a date, after all, no Phantom Thieves tagging along. Mementos is a bit more frightening than Kamoshida’s Palace, you mention, and he eases your fear, promising to protect you here, always. You take in his Phantom Thief uniform in more detail as you walk the long corridors of the realm of the subconscious and decide he looks quite handsome in it.

You watch him battle a demon that is the personification of lust, a succubus-like creature dripping with temptation and love, or so it thinks. Joker uses all that you’ve taught him so far, which isn’t much, and cons the false idol of love out of their money. It was quite comical yet a bit sad to watch the shadows expression fall from a cocky to a defeated one, but preformative love you’ve decided, is doomed to lose. The irony flies over your head.

From this experience, watching Joker fight with speed and grace, you settle on a genre for your novel. It will be a high-fantasy romance. Joker will inspire your main character, of course, but the love interest… was still undecided. You started drafting her to look like Ann, act like Ann, give off the energy and power Ann does. Ryuji was an option at first as well to inspire the love interest’s personality, but he was a bit too brash. You wanted someone strong, but soft and elegant at the same time. These characters were loosely based on the Phantom Thieves, anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

＊

When you leave the Metaverse, though Akira is a bit exhausted, he takes you to a local casual restaurant to make up for the last time at Le Blanc. There, sitting across the counter from you two is an older gentleman. Yoshida, Akira whispers, is a friend of his, another confidant. The Sun. Yoshida makes small talk, asking politely if you’re with Akira, and you feel your stomach clench. You knew this was fake, the agreement was clear, but hearing it aloud, the awkward ‘we’re just friends’ that was coming made you sweat. It still felt like rejection anyway. When Akira confirms that yes, you are in fact dating, your eyes widen, the coil in your stomach releasing. He smiles, taking your hand. This has to be an act, a show to play up the relationship. He’s just performing his duty, his role, holding up his end of the deal in order to simulate a real relationship and give you worthwhile source material… right?

Either way, you appreciate not being publicly humiliated, and smile back. That night, you write down everything, and what it’s like to not be alone.

Rank Up!

＊

Days pass, Kamoshida coming and going, justice being served, and you spend more and more time with your fake boyfriend. Your parents let him come over, and in your room you let him read some of the old poetry you’ve written, some lame pining drabble from your younger years, and some more recent things you’re proud of. He scours your room, digging up old hobbies and photos. You tell him all about them. He tells you he enjoys learning these things about you. You simply smile. It doesn’t seem to be the reaction he was looking for. Not liking the small frown that adorns his features, you pick the conversation back up, asking if he thinks you’ll ever have a persona. He smiles, maybe someday.

Rank Up!

＊

The Phantom Thieves are gaining fame, only more fodder for your writing. The more you hang out with Akira and his friends, the more real it feels. Your online friends can feel it, too. They sense you changing, talking less of writing and more of Akira. They tease you, of course, but they don’t get it. He’s just a main character… just a muse.

This time, Akira walks home to Le Blanc alone, wondering if he should tell you how he feels. He doesn’t like it, holding up this pretense of a fake relationship, pretending the glances and touches don’t matter. He wants to tell you…

...that he’s slowly falling.

You receive a little gift in the mail the next day. It’s a deck of tarot cards. The return address is blank. You call him to tell him all about it, and end up discussing the pros and cons of each card all night. What a coincidence that you should receive your own deck all of a sudden.

Rank Up!

＊

There are moments where you’re afraid you may be falling, too. There was the time that a blue-haired young man stalked you and your friends through Shibuya, turning corners when you did, always on your trail. When Ryuji finally got fed up and confronted the weirdo, asking why the hell he was following you guys, he’d revealed that his name was Yusuke, a student of a painting master, and that he was simply following inspiration where it lead.

“Your friend there, I was drawn to them,” he points elegantly, like some manga bishounen, past Ryuji and toward you. “I beg of you, allow me to paint your form. Something about your normalcy stands out. What I mean is, there is beauty to be found in not standing out, a silent grace in being so plain.” You could tell Yusuke meant no harm, that he simply may be a bit socially inept with his words, as well, but the way he was talking about you set something in Akira on fire. He stood in front of you, shifting until his body blocked yours from Yusuke’s sight.

“They aren’t plain.” He spoke with a dangerous edge to his tone, and you felt your heartbeat speed up. The hint of jealousy in his voice at Yusuke’s request for you to model for him, and anger at him calling someone he found so fascinating plain was evident.

＊

Yusuke seemed to be in denial in the coming days. Though your little troupe seemed to constantly be bumping into him, offering him sound advice and trying to awaken him to the mire of corruption that was the truth behind his mentor, Ichiryusai Madarame, he refused to see reason. He dove further into his art, but you could tell he was hurting. You used your time with Akira these days to teach him how art, much like film and literature, can reflect false truths and influence people. The deception, corruption and shallowness of the media extended to the art world, as he learned after one or two gallery visits with you.

It was then, in a gallery displaying Yusuke’s work, as you sat in a secluded corner alone discussing ways to take down Madarame, that Akira started to flirt incessantly.

He takes your hand, bringing up romantic tropes in movies he’s seen that seem so forced, one-sided, cliche, uncomfortable. He mentions that he would’ve done better, explains how those scenes would’ve played out if he had any say.

“Is that so?” Your brow raises, amused by how animated this usually quiet boy could be when he was passionate about something.

“Yeah! Of course! What, you don’t see me doing that?” he laughed breathily, going on about how the male lead of some high-school romance film Sojiro rented for him was clumsy, forceful, and didn't give his lover time and space to think about their feelings. “I would’ve treated them much, much better… “ his words trail off, as if lost in thought.

“...Is that so?” You ask again, studying his face and asking yourself how you didn’t notice before how beautiful the hue of his eyes were. You sure as hell were noticing now… steely grey, sharp, deep, purposeful. You’d have to write that down… for research purposes of course. When you pull yourself back to reality, no longer lost in the swirl of his irises, you realize he’s staring at you, and has been for some time.

“Do… can I-” he speaks, throat dry, and scoots himself closer. “May I kiss you…?” His voice is soft, so soft, scared.

“...Yes.” You answer, naturally, impulsively, voice just as soft. When Akira leans forward, and softly presses his apprehensive lips to yours, you feel like you’ve been set on fire. Your mind begins to go crazy, while your body is frozen. It’s not that you didn’t like it, some part of you did. You wanted more, but it felt wrong. This wasn’t real. You didn’t truly like him… right? This kiss was fake, for research purposes… to cure writer’s block…

...right?

You were frozen more from guilt than nerves. Weren’t first kisses supposed to feel like little butterflies in your stomach? Did he think he owed you this? Were you taking advantage of him at this point? Did he feel forced to kiss you to keep up his end of the bargain?

Akira deepened the kiss, a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you, begging you to reciprocate. When you didn’t, lost in your own head, he pulls away, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“W-we… we should head home. I’ll walk you…” he sighs. You both stand, make your way back onto the main street from the museum, and are silent the entire walk home.

You think he’s silent because you’ve forced him to think he needs to kiss you, and now regrets his decision. He thinks you’re silent because he’s just forced a kiss upon you, just like some Chad from a movie who can’t understand boundaries. Neither of you know your silence is for the exact same reasons.

Akira drops you off at home with a quiet ‘goodnight,’ and walks home, clearing his head in the cool night air.

“Stupid… jeez… fuckin’ stupid,” he huffs, repirmanding himself. This wasn’t real. You’d stated that from the beginning. This relationship was to benefit your writing, to help him in the Metaverse, nothing else. Nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

It was his fault he let himself develop real feelings. He has no right to be sad, to blame you, to get upset. You’d stated the terms from the very start…

Maybe he really was The Fool.

Rank Up…?

＊

The next few weeks are awkward.

Both of you think it’s your fault.

You go on dates like usual, but they are strictly business. You get writing material, he gets advice, no touching, and certainly no kissing. Yusuke joins the group. Things are great… friendly… strained, tense. Akira wonders what the hell he’s doing, if this bond is even worth it. Weeks pass. He feels your bond with him growing, but not in the way he wishes. It felt like all of his other confidants: visit, gain, rank up, gain power, learn. He wonders if he can keep this up. His heart aches. He wants to touch you more, but can’t, wants to tell you more, but won’t let himself.

＊

One rainy night, he calls you, like he often does when you can’t meet up in person, and tells you he can’t do this anymore. You lie, and say you agree. The guilt won’t let you tell him the truth, that you want to end the farce, move onto something more real. You can sense your feelings for him growing stronger each day, and it’s not fair to him. Without fighting, without the big “it’s not you it’s me you” you’re used to reading about in books, you tell him you respect his decision, and it’s over. When Akira hangs up, he finds himself a bit angry inside. You didn’t even try to fight for the relationship. There was a tiny little part of him that hoped you felt anything for him, that maybe it meant something to you. He cries that night, for the first time in a long time. They are angry tears, frustrated ones.

＊

In your bed, you find yourself sitting upright, dead inside, unfeeling, empty. You feel like a part of you is gone, but can’t pinpoint why. You don’t even notice the tears sliding down your own cheeks as you sift through the pack of tarot cards that mysteriously came into your life. You find The Moon, and play with it, twisting it between your fingers before sending it flying across the room like a paper dart. Did this mean you couldn’t hang out with the Phantom Thieves anymore? Were you losing your only in-real-life friends and… boyfriend(?) all in the same day?

You sifted through the cards and gently set aside the Emperor, the Lovers, the Chariot. Then your hand drifted over the Fool. You held it out in front of your face. A dancing man looking up at the sky with a jesters cap perched upon his head smiled back at you.

The start of a great journey, freedom from constraints. Each day is an adventure. Courage, anything can happen. There is a need to experience new things, to let yourself experience the love you deserve. Be willing to take risks.

A sad, thoughtful smile crosses your lips. You turn the card upside down.

If you disregard the repercussions of your actions, you are the Fool. You cannot see the position you’ve put yourself in. Is everything what it seems to be?

A breath catches in your throat, a wave of nausea hitting you. You scramble for your phone, and dial a number.

Silence, ringing, silence.

“...Yeah…?” Akira sniffles. He’s been crying???

“I want… can we talk… can I come over?”

“It’s late.”

“It’s not, we came home way earlier than usual. You’re just using that as an excuse.” You were feeling a little braver than usual, the spirit of the Fool within you. You heard him thinking, a sigh that came through as static.

“Yeah… fine, I’ll be waiting.” Relief washed over you.

＊

When you knocked on the door after speed-walking to Le Blanc, Sojiro let you in with a warm smile. He obviously didn’t know about your falling out with Akria, yet.

“He’s upstairs,” he gestured, exhaustion evident in his voice. You rushed past, thanking him with a small bow of your head. Only now was the inevitable fear starting to sink in. Akira heard footsteps creaking on the stairs. Sojiro never came up unannounced, and with that realization, his back stiffened. Morgana picked up your scent, excusing himself, passing you on your way up the stairs. He could take a hint.

He stood immediately, stepping toward you, stopping halfway. You shrunk into yourself, unable to meet his eyes.

“Akira… I wanted to talk…” you muttered.

“You said that… about what?” He was more than a little pissed, but he was always one to hide his temper well.

“Can we sit…?” You gestured to his small sofa. It didn’t feel right to sit on the bed. He hesitated, before shuffling over and sitting next to you. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Oh, there were so many things, but he wanted to know what you thought was worth apologizing over. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, he dialed back his attitude a tad.

“For… making you enter into the agreement in the first place. Someone’s affections, their love, their touch and body… it’s not something that can be forced. It should never be pretend.” You felt like the biggest hypocrite ever right now. His head shook a bit in disbelief, blinking hard.

“I wasn’t pretending!” His hands flew to his hair, mussing it. “That was the problem.” He sighed heavily.

“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I wasn’t being forced… are you… you must be the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.” He laughed cynically.

“But-”

“Wait, wait, why did you think I ended our” he put air quotes up, “ ‘fake’ relationship.” He needed this clarification, now. For closure, for redemption, to fix things, whatever may come next.

“Because… because I was forcing you to date me! You were uncomfortable?!” You could feel your voice begin to break, tears clawing to escape. You’d never felt so disgusted with yourself as you did right now.

“Are you serious?” He took both of your hands, looking you in the eyes. You nod. “Answer truthfully. Do you have feelings for me? Real ones?” You bit your lip, that feeling of selfish guilt creeping like bile up your throat. You nod again. “This whole time?” Another nod. He releases you, turning away. “Sheesh, maybe I’m the oblivious one here…” he spoke more to himself than to you. You both sat in tense silence, not sure what to do, what to say.

“Akira…”

“It was real to me,” he moved closer, trapping you against the end of the couch.

“Really?” Your heartbeat was going crazy, and he leaned ever so slightly closer, his hand on the back of the couch for support. “I broke up with you because it was hurting me to pretend I didn’t have real feelings for you, and to think you didn’t want me back, not for real. I thought… that you’d always think of me as just some character for your book.”

“No… Akira… had I known you felt this way…” He leaned in further, your noses bumping slightly, clumsily. This time, he felt no discomfort, no hesitation from your side. His heart fluttered in excitement. You could feel his breath on your warm cheeks.

“May I kiss you?” He asked again, a secondary, unspoken question sitting beneath his words.

“Yes.” Your voice was shaky, but you were sure, for once, of what you wanted. His hand went to your back, cradling you into his chest to lay down flat against the couch. With a passion he’d been holding back, he pressed his lips to yours without reservation. You sunk into the warm, plush feeling, tilting your head at a better angle. He kept the kiss soft, shallow, low pressure, looking for you to give him the signal to stop. When your arms reached upward, snaking around his neck and pulling him harder down into you, he groaned softly, barely audible, before passing his tongue over your lips a single time. You parted your lips, allowing him access, and his hand, pale and trembling, came up and found its way under the hem of your shirt, splayed nervously against the smooth skin there.

[amphxtrite]

what I miss most // c.d

cedric diggory x slytherin! reader

warnings: swearing, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

summary: the reader is chosen for triwizard tournament instead of cedric. He helps you with the first task and finds himself at the bottom of the lake.

a/n: thank you to anon for sending this request, I absolutely loved writing this, but I apologize if it’s kind of shit.

tag list: @cupidpoison @wonderful-writer @inglourious-imagines @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @coldlilheart @glossierkisscs @hoe4cedricdiggory

word count: 3.9k

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

“And the Hogwarts champion for the triwizard tournament is.” Dumbledore’s voice booms as the entire student body sits on the edge of their seats waiting patiently as the goblet of fire spews out a sheet of parchment. “Y/n L/n of slytherin!”

The entire house of black and green shouts in excitement as you stand and make your way to the front of the hall, accepting pats on the back and high fives your entire way down.

Cedric Diggory sighs in defeat as your name is called instead of his. He slowly raises his head from his arms to take a look at the girl who would be in the tournament instead of him. He doesn’t know what to expect as he finally finds you in the crowd, but needless to say he’s surprised. Beautiful cascading h/c hair, bright eyes, a playful smirk resting on your face and a loose green tie adorning your neck. He could barely take his eyes off of you as you shake hands with dumbledore and enter the back room, his eyes trailing after you until you’re finally out of his line of view.

“She’s gorgeous.” The hufflepuff sighs, resting his chin on his hand.

“Ced, she took your spot!” Ernie Macmillan calls, shaking his head at the star struck brunette.

“Who cares mate?” Cedric laughs, wrapping an arm around the younger boy with a smirk on his face.

Your confidence seemed to double as you walked up to Dumbledore and shook his hand, but sitting in the waiting room with the other champions grew rather awkward and you knew you’d have to be the first to break the ice.

You turn and wave to the Beauxbatons girl and introduce yourself. Fleur seems happy to have someone to talk to and you eventually pull Viktor into your circle, talking about your schools and your excitement for the tournament. A shuffle of shoes is heard and you turn, expecting Dumbledore, but see Harry Potter’s mop of brown hair and glasses instead.

“Harry what are you doing here?” You question, walking up to the shaky boy and putting a hand on his shoulder. Harry was like a younger brother to you, and you’d grown rather fond of him despite your house.

“I-I don’t know! He just called my name.” He stutters, looking around anxiously and fidgeting with his fingers.

“I didn’t put my name in, I swear!” He rambles on, taking hold of your sweater.

“I believe you Harry, there’s no way you could’ve made it past the age line.” You state, ruffling his hair and sighing.

“You know you should really get this cut.” You laugh, pulling him towards the other champions.

“Really y/n, now?” Harry rolls his eyes, but cracks a smile, allowing himself to be dragged over and introduced.

Days pass and you grow more and more excited for the first task, you get close to the other champions and you have overwhelming support from even peers you’ve never talked to before, but as more people support you, they seem to turn on Harry. Badges with the phrase ‘Potter Stinks.’ And ‘Support y/n the real Hogwarts champion.’ Begin popping up everywhere and despite your pleas for people to take them off more and more people continue.

“Please Draco, I know you don’t like Harry, but I would really appreciate it if you and your friends stopped wearing them.” You try to reason with the young slytherin, but everyday is the same response. “No need to be modest y/n! We all know it’s true!”

You sigh and shake your head turning back to Fleur and her friends as one of them shakes your shoulder. “I think you’ve got yourself an admirer.” She smirks pointing behind you.

“That’s very sweet Claire, but I don’t want to see anymore badg-“

She cuts you off. “Non, no badges, that boy is gazing at you!” She squeals, shifting your body so you’re facing the other direction. Your eyes lock with a pair of grey ones and the owner immediately drops his gaze. Your cheeks flash a light pink as you smile at the adorable boy, but you’re pulled from your little moment by a tapping on your back.

“Um y/n, c-can I talk to you?” Harry’s shy voice calls out. “Read the badge Potter!” Draco’s distinct voice responds as you turn to shush him.

“Of course Harry, lead the way.” You smile.

“Listen I’m sorry about the badges. I’ve told them not to wear them, but” Harry lifts his hand to stop you.

“I know, it’s alright. I just wanted to warn you. The first task is dragons.” He whispers before scurrying off to find his friends.

Nodding your head in disbelief, you run back to Fleur’s group and apologize, telling them you’d be in the library if they needed you.

Dragons. Why did it have to be dragons? You sigh in frustration as you open another book on the fire spewing reptiles, your eyes fighting to stay open. “H-hey, do you need any help?” A low voice wakes you from your half asleep trance and you snap up. “What? Um, yes. Please. What was the question?” You lift your hand to your mouth to block your yawn as the voice comes closer.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother.” A boy comes into view. “Oh, you’re the hufflepuff from the courtyard!” You smile, motioning for him to take a seat next to you. “Yeah that’s me.” He chuckles, placing his book bag down and falling into the chair. “I just noticed you in here and was wondering if you wanted any help?” The hufflepuff sighs, scratching the back of his head in a nervous manner.

“Yeah! I mean that'd be great!” you grin, picking up your pen. “Does the hufflepuff have a name?” You tease, pulling a textbook towards the two of you. “Yeah, Uh- Cedric. Cedric Diggory.” He smiles extending his hand.

“Well Cedric, I’m y/n.” You respond, taking hold of the brunette’s hand. “I know.” He nods before blushing and shaking his head.

“That seemed really creepy, I didn’t mean anything weird.”

You laugh and for a moment Cedric is sure he’s in the presence of an angel. Your face lighting up and the sound of your voice reminded him of something divine, and Merlin did his heart soar.

“Alright Cedric, let’s get down to business.”

You spend the afternoon and most of the evening researching all you could about dragons. You had explained the situation to Cedric to give him a better idea what to look out for and he’s had his nose stuck down a book the whole time looking for the right way to succeed.

“You could try flying?”

“I’m horrid on a broom Ced.”

“Stun it?”

“That’ll only make it angry.”

“Freeze it?”

“It’s a fire breathing reptile Ced.”

“What about a distraction?” Cedric suggests, reading over a line of text.

“It won’t anger the dragon, there shouldn't be any need for fire, you just need to transfigure a distraction.”

Your lips pull into a smirk and you wrap Cedric into a hug.

“That’s brilliant! How did you know Transfiguration is my best class?” You laugh.

“Lucky guess?” Cedric smirks in response, returning the hug with a huge smile.

“You’re the best Cedric, I’ll see you later?” You pack your bag and squeeze the hufflepuff’s shoulder before walking away.

“Yeah, see you later!”

One by one at the sound of the canon the champions before you face their dragons. Sitting in the tent in your sports wear, anxiety floods your veins as the sounds of thrashing mixed with ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the audience ring in your ear and cause your heart to race. Harry does his best to reassure you, but it seems more like a comfort to himself than you. You couldn’t blame the boy, a fourteen year old who had faced Voldemort, a basilisk and now a dragon.

The canon bangs again and someone enters the tent to retrieve you.

“This way please miss l/n.”

You stand and take a deep breath, smiling to Harry before following the man through the curtains.

You begin stretching out your arms and giving yourself a pep talk. You were smart to have taken the time to study dragons, because you didn’t know the first thing about Swedish Short- Snouts before your study day with Cedric.

You begin your walk into the stadium and the rocks begin to come into view.

The chanting of your name is distinctly heard and a silver dragon resting on a stone perch greets you, it’s yellow eyes piercing into your heart like a sword. You swallow and take a deep breath to calm yourself, pulling your wand from your pocket and putting on your brace face.

Students scream as you are finally visible and you can hear bets being made, the dragon stands from the stone and growls.

“Let’s do this.”

You slowly pace towards the dragon as it shoots a flame out towards you. Quickly rolling out of the way, you cast the rock to dog transfiguration on a medium boulder before crouching behind a large rock.

The dragon curiously follows the dog with its eyes before stepping from its nest to follow it, the scraping of chains being your cue to go. The dog begins to run and you quickly sprint in the direction of the eggs, the golden one shining in the centre must be your goal.

As you approach the nest, a brilliant blue flame shoots from beside you, barely missing your body, but burning you down your arm. The dragon begins bounding towards you, and with pain coursing through your left side you scoop up the golden egg and loudly cast the sleeping charm multiple times on the silver beast before it finally falls to your feet in a low slumber.

The stadium erupts in excitement as you walk out with the egg in your arms, as you scan the crowd for your hufflepuff helper. You spot the brunette in the stands and throw him a thumbs up and a huge smile. He grins back at you and mouths congratulations as you are greeted by medical assistance and pulled into the hospital wing.

You’re laid in a white bed as Madame Pomfrey treats your burns. The medicine does cause you to flinch and your arms turns a strange colour, but it does seem to cool after it’s finally wrapped up. You’re about to fall asleep when a flash of red and brown enters your line of sight and begins to chuckle and stutter with a huge smirk.

“Heard you pulled quite a stunt in the arena.” You grin at Harry with a light roll of your eyes.

“It was amazing y/n! You should have seen me fly up and around the Horntail!” Harry gushes, explaining every moment of his first task in great detail. Pomfrey begins bandaging his scratchers as he begins swinging his arm around explaining the great chase.

“And then I flew up and back down right past the dragon’s spines!” He lifts his hand up and drops it back down.

“Then-”

A boy in a yellow tie pulls open the curtains to your bed and steps inside.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” He grins sheepishly, pulling two bouquets of flowers from behind his back.

“Of course not, you don’t mind do you Harry?”

You smirk at the boy and he shakes his head.

“I was just stopping by to drop these off from the judges.” Cedric explains handing a bouquet to you and Harry.

“Great job out there by the way. Both of you.” Cedric compliments, placing the flowers on your bed before stepping back out again.

Months passed and the buzz from the first event had still not diminished, so when the Yule Ball was announced, the entire school went absolutely crazy. People you’d never seen before began confessing their ‘undying love’ for you and asking you to accompany them to the dance. You almost felt bad denying them a date, but the truth was you only had one person in mind who you wanted to take you to the ball, the hufflepuff brunette who had helped you conquer your first task.

Cedric had been planning on asking you to the Yule Ball, but as he watched people swarm you, he lost hope that you’d still be single for the dance. He felt it was rather useless to try, but Harry wasn’t going to allow Cedric to give up.

“She likes roses. Yellow ones with red tips are her favourite. She grows them at home.” The gryffindor shrugs nonchalantly, nudging the hufflepuff in the shoulder.

“Okay?” Cedric shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “She doesn’t have a date you know. She rejected everyone who’s asked.” Harry continues.

“And how is that supposed to make me feel better?” Cedric sighs, poking at his food.

“She’s waiting for you.” The gryffindor finishes, turning over and noticing a sparkle in Cedric’s eyes. “Just thought you’d ought to know.” Harry smirks,standing from the hufflepuff table and wandering over to his.

Cedric made his way to professor Mcgonagall right after that to ask how to transfigure the exact form of those roses and worked at it till he was sure he’d mastered it.

He found you reading on special charms in the library with the girl from Beauxbatons, and taking a deep breath he summoned the flowers from the top of his wand and presented them to you.

“Y/n, I-I know it’s not much, but I was wondering if you would go to the Yule Ball with me?”

He almost toppled over when you jumped up to hug him, he had to pinch himself to make sure this was really happening. That you had actually said yes.

The ball arrived and it was absolutely magical. You and Fleur were gushing over each other’s dresses as Viktor talked to his date and Harry stood awkwardly in the back. Cedric arrived and together you made your way into the ballroom.

You danced for hours, anything from waltzing to just jumping around until you pulled Cedric away from the dance floor and into the courtyard.

“I see you’re wearing my flower, love.” Cedric grins, looking down at you as you swayed in his arms.

“Of course Ced, I love it.” You respond, a smile growing on your face. “I grow these back home, they’re my favourite.” You smirk, pulling the rose from your hair and holding it up to your nose.

“Do you know what they represent Ced?” You raise your eyes to meet Cedric’s dazzling grey ones.

“No I do not, Care to enlighten me?” Cedric grins sheepishly, twirling you in the light snowfall.

“Yellow roses with red tips, mean friendship and-” You pause looking up to the falling snow and back into Cedric’s eyes. “Falling in love.”

Your lips had almost met that night, but the sound of footsteps pulled the two of you apart and the two of you parted not long after.

When the second task arrived you were ready. You had figured out the egg and had given Harry a hint to figure out his as well. You had managed to find a spell on your own to help you in the underwater field, but on the day of the event you couldn’t find Cedric anywhere. No matter where you looked or wandered the boy in that yellow tie was nowhere to be found. Lined up on the wooden deck, you pull yourself together, shaking Cedric from your mind to grab your wand from your jacket pocket and shrugging off your outer layer, leaving you in your bathing suit in the unforgiving winter air.

They sound you to begin and you cast the bubble head charm on yourself before diving into the freezing water. You swam as fast as you could, dodging the grindylow as you made your way through the tall underwater foliage. Wandering further into the dense green, you were sure the water was playing tricks on you because tied to the bottom of the lake was Cedric, still clad in his full uniform. You spot Harry gazing stupidly at the victims and you nudge his shoulder. shooting a spell at the weed tied around Cedric’s leg before tapping your wrist in the universal sign for ‘time.’ You grab around Cedric’s chest and push his head down as you surface through the waves, The brunette’s head popping up as soon as his head breaks through the lake. You gently pull him back to the docks and wrap towels around your arms and his as people flock to you and congratulate you on your victory.

“W-What happened?” Cedric stutters, his teeth chattering like crazy.

“You were at the bottom of the lake Ced. Do you not remember?” You giggle.

“No, I-I just remember being told to go to the office and when I got there, everything went black.” Cedric shivers as you scoot closer beside him.

A line of the poem from the golden egg bounces through your mind.

“We’ve taken what you miss the most.”

Cedric glances at you in confusion, but a smile dawns on your face.

“I missed you the most Ced, that’s why they chose you.” You laugh, wrapping the hufflepuff in a hug as his eyes widen in realization and his cheeks heat up.

The third task arrives and you and Harry are tied for first. The two of you enter the stadium together and stand in front of different entrances to the maze. You nod to Harry, wishing him good luck and he does the same. Dumbledore finishes his speech and the task has begun. You start slowly, walking with slight hesitation as the maze walls swallow you whole. As soon as the cheers of the student body are no longer heard, you pick up the pace, dodging magical creatures and running around blocks and dead ends. You had the feeling you were close when you noticed Viktor prowling in the opposite direction.

“Viktor! The cup’s that way.” You nudge him on the side as in a flash he turns and grabs you by the throat.

“Finally I’ve found you.” He smirks his usual accent disappearing as his glassy eyes look you up and down.

Clouded eyes and a voice that wasn’t his, there was only one explanation. “Let Viktor go!” You squirm in his grip as a devilish smile descends his face as he chokes you out and lifts his wand. “That should be the least of your worries y/n.”

His lips just form a curse when a loud “Stupefy!” Is heard.

Viktor falls back and Harry comes rushing to your aid.

“Are you alright?”

You immediately begin taking deep breaths of air and turning to face Harry.

“The Imperius curse. Someone cursed Viktor.” You mumble in between gasps for air.

Harry helps you up and pulls you forwards through the final part of the maze, finally finding the glowing blue cup.

“Go on, you did save me.” You smile, pushing Harry closer to the cup.

“Nonsense, you were closer. You should have it.” Harry argues, pulling you further up.

“Together?” You grin taking a step closer.

“Together.” Harry agrees.

You reach up to the cup and at the count of three you both place your hands onto the trophy.

The world begins to spin and contort. You begin to feel dizzy as Harry’s shape begins to swirl and his loud breathing is the only thing you hear.

You land on a field and the two of you stand nauseously. You hold your head in your hand as you hear Harry utter the word ‘portkey’ and you turn to access your surroundings.

“It looks like a graveyard.” You sigh, turning back to Harry. “Is this like a joke or somethin-“

“Look out!”

From behind you a hidden figure emerges and pulls out their wand.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Your body seizes up and you fall onto Harry’s chest. “Avada Kedavra!”

“No!” Harry jumps and tumbles down a hill with you in his grasp, running and placing you behind a tombstone to face this opponent.

You can only lay there frozen as Harry screams. The bubbling of a cauldron, cackling, multiple voices, and a hiss of a snake is heard. Your bonds seem to break for a second, perhaps the person had just transferred their wand to someone else. You slowly turn and peak over the grave, a scream of fear nearly leaving your mouth at the sight of Voldemort and his death eaters.

Voldemort begins throwing the gryffindor to the sides like a ragdoll as he begs Harry to duel, Harry tries to counter the killing curse with expelliarmus, a thick veil of light emerges from their wands and soon the two are hidden from view. For agonizing minutes you sit there in fear for your friends life. Hoping and Praying Harry would be alright.

The light disappears and Harry emerges, throwing back the band of death eaters before you stand and run over to him.

“Let’s Go!” You pull the dazed gryffindor from his trance and run towards the portkey as Harry yells spell after spell at the oncoming line of Voldemort’s followers. You quickly clutch onto the handle of the trophy and close your eyes as the world begins to spin again.

All spectators were frozen as Harry Potter and y/n l/n exit the maze screaming bloody murder. “He’s back! Voldemort’s back!” Harry cries, clutching onto Dumbledore and being grabbed by professor Moody. Your voice is quiet and pained as you wrap yourself in a blanket and explain in full detail what happened when that cup turned into a bloody portkey. Dumbledore sat stroking his beard and nodding before quickly walking off to find Harry. You sit and hang your head down, taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart. In and out, it was going to be okay.

“Y/n, are you alright?” The worried voice of the grey eyed hufflepuff comes crashing through your ear and in a second you had engulfed him in a hug and begun crying into his shoulder.

“H-He’s back. He’s back and I didn’t do anything.” You whimper into Cedric’s scarf.

“Hey, darling look at me.” He tilts your chin up and his voice turns serious.

“Voldemort is a mass murderer. He’s killed almost everyone he's come in contact with. It’s not your fault, love he would have killed you.” Cedric sighs, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“What matters is that you’re back, you’re safe and we’re together.” Cedric smiles, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Congratulations on the win by the way.” Cedric smirks, looking down at you.

“Win? But Harry.”

“He told Dumbledore you were the rightful winner of the cup. It’s already been announced darling. You won.”

Cedric follows his congratulations by pressing an overdue kiss to your lips. Your mouth drops open and a smile widens on your face as you jump up into Cedric’s arms and he spins you around.

“I’m so proud of you, love.” He chuckles, placing you back down again and holding you close.

“Just don’t do that again, alright? You scared me.”

You laugh and begin peppering kisses on Cedric’s warm cheeks as you punch your fist into the air and cheer. You had done it. You survived and conquered the triwizard tournament. Though you had to talk to Harry about splitting the winnings. There was no way he was getting away with this.

[sinkix]

《What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Nekoma Edition》

Yo-hoo! Here’s another part to this potential(?) series! I hope you enjoy the possible call-outs in some of these lmao. Writers block been kicking my ass recently but I had a lot of fun writing these. Enjoy <3

You can find the Karasuno ver. here 

✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ��✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧

Kuroo:

Have a hand fetish and will not say no to choking.

Daddy kink™

Will not accept anything below 6 inches.

More of a dog person but would love to own a black cat.

You drool over tattoos.

Your grades are mostly B’s but you know in your heart you deserve that A, and tbh you probably do. Chase ur goals bby.

Halloween is likely your favourite holiday.

You have to resist not to carve a dick into the pumpkin EvEry GodDAmN YeAr.

You either study for 6 hours consecutively or cannot study at all and you get very frustrated at this.

Have the potential to be a good leader and command the room but probably don’t put it to use as much as you should.

Your playlist parkours from sad 3am crying into your pillow songs to aggressive punk music you could rob a store to.

You like bad boys who hang around bars and look like they would put out a cigarette on your forearm and call you a slut. Just stating facts sweaty xoxo.

Either dress very feminine and girly with a ‘smol girl uwu’ aesthetic or a hardass punk who would kick your ass for a can of beer no in between and tbh both are equally hot.

You’re a big softie at heart either way and just want to be held and told everything will be okay.

Ur a hoe for when people stroke your hair or caress your chin it’s your ultimate weakness.

Watched Rick & Morty.

Twice.

Sleeves rolled up veiny forearms and donning a silver watch are your muse and something you fantasise about frequently.

Most of your memes are shitty top text bottom texts that are somehow funny and I don’t understand why lmao.

You call someone ‘bro’ even if it’s someone you’re immensely attracted to.

Did someone say ties? No it’s just ur dirty ass thoughts thinking about that hot business dudes attire from across the street and how you wish they were tied around ur wrists.

Probably had a crush on Jeff the Killer as a tween and are relentlessly haunted by your old Wattpad library. 

Tbh any dark-haired dude with bedhead that screams rugged and probably not good for you is something that draws you like a moth to a flame.

You often question why every person you’ve fallen for has been a Scorpio and curse that tendency of yours.

Dw man they’re hot so I feel u.

Kenma:

Went through a ‘I’m not like other __’ phase and it’s something that you think about a lot and wish you didn’t.

Watched dan & phil as a kid.

Any mention of Pokemon has you turning into a rabid beast you get way too excited.

It’s cute though dw bby.

Pretty antisocial but interesting to talk to.

Your family often question how you’re able to sleep in till 3pm and judge you heavily for it.

Nocturnal night owl gang rise up.

Frequently have bags under your eyes but somehow manage to pull it off.

Listen to ASMR on the down-low and will never admit it to a single soul.

Frequently go on BL binges and have many related book marks.

You pray that someone will never find your laptop bc holy fuck the amount of smut on that.

You wear scarves & beanies even when it isn’t that cold outside.

100% went through a scene hair phase/attempted to.

You dye your hair a lot or REALLY want to.

You have a voice kink low-key so anyone with a pleasant/soothing sounding voice just gets u goin’.

Cats are your favourite animal and you either do or want to own several.

Would name them after video game/anime characters u fuckin nerd lol.

Speaking of cats ,you fantasise heavily about cat-boys and have a folder dedicated to them.

Oversized hoodies are your vibe and always ball the sleeve hems in your fist as a comfort mechanism.

Shopping centres are your worst nightmare and trigger your claustrophobia or social anxiety and honestly I feel that spiritually.

Have a cute sticky note collection.

You like a lot of music consisting of guitar and slow/soothing beats.

You also fw EDM/ techno on occasions.

Honestly wouldn’t wanna anger you since you have a seething temper when pushed far enough.

It’s the kinda temper that’s eerily quiet but no less terrifying, like the other person can tell you are graphically plotting their demise.

You love sleeping to the sound of rainfall and often play those nature ambience videos while you sleep.

Never tidy your sheets and it’s just a big scrunched up heap of fabric in the centre of your mattress most of the time.

Make your fucking bed.

Lev:

Your ships are chaotic and shamelessly controversial.

Would do something just for the sake of creating mayhem lmao.

You were the fucker who stuck their chewing gum under the desk, I see you.

Your brain never stops whirring it’s a constant hurricane of crackhead energy and you have no idea how to turn it off. 

Would eat a stick of pencil lead for $2

You don’t help your situation with the amount of coffee/energy drinks you consume.

The class clown who cries themselves to sleep.

Such a wholesome dumbass but somehow kinda intimidating??? 

Even if you’re not confident you can do something you’ll try anyway and honestly I respect that about you.

You !! use!!! a lot??!! of!! random punctuation!!! so you always??!?!? seem!!111!! excited!!!!!11!?

Every time you’ve ever tried to make a sandcastle it has failed.

You tried to eat the sand once but we don’t talk bout that.

You would  also pick up slugs and snails and chase your friends around with them.

Can never tell whether people are laughing with you or at you and while you don’t let it show it high-key bothers you when you’re laying alone in your room at night.

Not one to hold grudges, you carry a ‘shit happens’ mentality which is v good but it sometimes leads to people taking advantage of it or walking all over you.

Your meme collection is both questionable and horrifying.

Like how many cursed images and heavily distorted pictures does one person need.

Never organise the files on your PC/laptop so it looks like a complete dumpster fire.

The one at sleepovers who persistently woke everyone else up with their snickering and refusal to sleep till dawn.

For the love of Asahi charge your damn phone.

I see that red bar and ‘12%’

Charge it now.

Bought a plant one time, gave it a name and talked to it frequently.

It died not long after bc u forgot to fucking water it.

No one better ever make you responsible for a pet.

Type of person that when someone asks you to tag along on an endeavour no matter how stupid it is you will agree.

2am skydiving in france? hell yeah.

Midnight shopping spree and spending over half your pay check? count you in.

Exploring an abandoned hospital and performing an Ouija board to summon the demons of hell? you’re damn right you’ll be there.

I hope you have a mum friend by your side bc if not how are you still alive.

You sometimes put the milk in before the cereal and it’s something I’ll never forgive you for.

Yaku:

Very responsible and usually make the right decisions.

You do have moments where you act like a complete dumbass though.

Like u go from 50 year old to 5 year old in the blink of an eye.

A hopeless romantic but it’s a side you don’t often reveal.

Prefer strawberry milk over any other flavour.

You’re the type of person to shower twice a day w/o fail.

Where that stank smell coming from? Not you clearly bc your skin is basically 90% The Body Shop’s rose scented soap at this point.

You get stomach aches a lot and you can’t figure out why.

Probably an allergy to everyone’s bs.

Really good at dirty talk even though you don’t seem the type so people are always taken aback.

You have to be really in the mood though otherwise it falls flatter than Oikawa’s ass, use your skill wisely.

You often call people clowns when you know you’re secretly the biggest one going.

Honk honk, hoe.

You send messages in one paragraph rather than multiple texts unless you are REALLY excited.

People underestimate you at times then are shocked when they realise you are capable of being a fire-breathing dragon from the flaming pits of hell.

You like spicy chicken wings.

Such a petty little shit at times lmao.

Enjoy the view from the top of mountains so you either hike a lot or really want to.

Way more of a cat person since it’s just much more convenient for you.

Usually pretty cheerful or calm and people are drawn to your stable/friendly aura.

Went through a phase of drinking mountain dew and your body still feels the awful effects

Fav element is probably air.

You’re 5′6″ or shorter.

Box dyed your hair brunette several times and can never get the pigment out to this day.

Yamamoto:

Whenever you smell something weird in the room you always internally freak out and think it’s you.

Head-butting walls is your hobby.

You fell off your bike as a kid and still have the scar on your knee.

Probably have tons of ear piercings.

Would tame a pigeon and call it Larry.

You get frequent nosebleeds and can never tell if it’s a medical issue or your extreme simping for fictional men/women.

Hopefully the latter.

You constantly chew your pen/pencil in class so you never lend them to anyone out of embarrassment.

I really hope no one ever lends you stationery bc 30 minutes later it’ll look like it was mauled by a rabid rottweiler.

You really want to own a dog and would call it something intimidating like Banshee or Diablo.

You bleached your hair that one time and it almost fell out so now you’re forced to stay at least 10 metres away from all at-home hair dye products.

You tried your best though bby so A for effort, even if it did look like dehydrated ramen afterwards.

Your grades are mostly C’s and you’re barely passing bc you just don’t care about your classes lol.

Still though you’re actually pretty smart so put it to good use you lazy oaf, channel that crackhead energy into something good.

Your phone screen has several cracks in it from when you dropped it on the bathroom floor while shitting and you’ll always be angry at yourself for that.

You have some really weird quirks but you make it work.

Actually a v chill person but you just kinda attract chaos/trouble wherever you go.

Carry a lighter with you even when you don’t need one.

Shy texter but once people see you irl you are the complete opposite, you just dk how to text without coming across as awkward.

One of those people that’s unintentionally funny and always get confused when you make someone laugh but it makes you feel good regardless.

Have a cool necklace collection and own at least one dog-tag/army style pendant.

Should really consider buying a rabbit you would look so cute w/ one.

You have really nice legs and people should compliment them more.

Either severely dehydrated or overly hydrated to the point you are peeing pure tap water so for the love of god please learn moderation, your kidneys and bladder will thank you for it.

Inuoka:

Your favourite character would be Hinata but you like people taller than you so your love for Inuoka spawned.

You really enjoy using the double spiderman meme.

Cannot correctly verbalise your feelings without creating a minimum of 10 misunderstandings but once people are used to it it’s kinda endearing.

You usually wake up in a good mood and people can never fathom how or why.

You either stay up till 5am or you wake up at that time no in between.

A morning person bc you love the sunrise.

Change your lock-screen very regularly bc you get bored.

Your humour consists solely of poop jokes.

When you don’t understand a joke you laugh anyway and hope they don’t ask you if you actually get it.

Happened once and you’re still traumatised from the cricket silence that fell upon the room.

Really like the taste of lemonade and drink it more often than you should.

Often think about what you would look like with a shaved head.

More of an extrovert but def have occasional introvert tendencies where you wanna be left tf alone.

Never allowed to pick up anything in stores bc the last time you did you sniffed a scented candle and it shattered to the floor.

Constantly have spontaneous ideas of what to change about your appearance.

You use a lot of hand gestures like thumbs up and peace signs.

‘Dude’ and ‘lmao’ is 90% of your vernacular.

Your nails are a disaster, some are down to the nub while others are pretty grown out bc you only bite a select few please sort it out.

Look really good in red.

Your laptop has way too many tabs open from random google searches of words you didn’t know the meaning to.

You read a lot of books but for like 10 minutes at a time bc you have the attention span of a walnut.

You are the type of person to nuke your AO3 tags with things that aren’t even relevant purely bc you found them funny.

Your Tumblr drafts are a nightmare, you have like 100+ in the works yet keep starting new projects why do you do this.

Happy sunshine but you have a LOT of mood swings like that shit comes out of nowhere.

Cry pretty often but no one ever sees and it’s usually because of said mood swings.

You always smile and pick yourself up again though which I commend you for.

TYPES IN CAPITALS IN SITUATIONS THAT DO NOT REQUIRE SAID PUNCTUATION SO YOU SEEM LIKE YOU’RE YELLING ALL THE TIME.

[yetanotherreader]

One Day

Fic Type: Stand-alone/One-Shot

Genre: Drama (Heavy Angst)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N

Characters: Dean Winchester, Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Joseph Hughes (OC)

Word Count: 3,032.

Warnings: Angst, Depression, Anxiety, Marital Abuse, Mentions of marital rape, abusive marriage, physical violence.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS AND DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THIS IS TRIGGERING FOR YOU.

Mobile app doesn't support the cut, so pardon for the no read more thingy.

A/N: Hey guys. I know I went on this little(big) break and I haven't updated useful in a while. I'm going through a writer's block again, trying to write and stopping after a while. and I have so many college projects to do during quarantine. I hope y'all are keeping safe. I wrote this one shot in hopes of getting back at writing. Woke up all night writing this, so I really hope you all will like it. But again, since I woke up the night writing this, it may or may not be up to your expectations. Please heed the warning above, girls. I really do not want any of you going through more stress during these stressful times.

Also, I used the same tag list as Useful in this one too. I don't know if everyone of you will like to be added to any of my other works so let me know if you want your name removed or added. :)

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His eyes were locked on the big gates of the hall, both waiting for and dreading the moment that particular person entered who he'd been missing for months. He gave a once over to the venue. This place was gorgeous, a palace in fact. A big chandelier graced the double ceiling and there was a colorful fountain in the garden outside. The lights were the right amount of bright and the drinks tasted just about perfect. Even the waiters wore their uniforms more expensive than his suit. It was something Dean had always seen in those Disney movies which, don't tell anyone, were his guilty pleasure.

He and Sam had come here for a case—the only reason that gave them the privilege to get into a place like this one. People have reported weird occurrences happening around here, followed by the abduction of everyone who saw it. Turned out, it was a serial killer and the police had taken care of it even before they reached.

Something about that place, though, made him want to stay. For some reason, he didn't make a U-turn and go back. Maybe it was the fact that it was the annual ball of the city where only the rich and reputed were invited, that he wanted to feel reputed for once, or that here he would see someone he hadn't seen in a while, someone he missed everyday he lived. He knew it would shatter his heart when he saw her, but he was willing to take a heartbreak if it meant seeing her once. Sam didn't say a word against it, but Dean knew better than to think he was okay with him going through all that torture.

Just when his eyes reached back to the doors, he saw, once again, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. The woman who made his heart flutter and break at the same time, the woman he loved the most. She was dressed in rose gold, the drape hugging her curves as perfectly as he remembered. Her hair was up in a messy bun, which only she could pull off that good, with few softly curled strands coming out to shape her face. Her lips were colored wine red, as tempting as ever, and her face was covered in a darker make up than he ever remembered her wear. In a better shape than when he last saw her, her posture screamed royalty. She looked breathtakingly gorgeous. The only thing was, she wasn't herself. Or at least, her old self. Does time change people that much? It took him all his power to remove his gaze from her, her arm entangled with the other man's, helped. 

She wasn't his to call anymore, she never was. Maybe the only woman who he liked but never kissed, the only woman who made him go all hot and bothered but he never dared touch her the way he desired. The only woman he loved enough to not make a move. He knew his feelings were mutual, he saw it in her eyes when they sat on the hood of the impala, chatting through the sleepless nights. He saw it every time she laughed at his piss poor jokes or narrowed her eyes at the women who flirted with him. He saw it when she cried for the first time in front of him and yelled at him because she thought he got himself killed. He saw it when he felt her heart accelerate everytime they hugged, like his own, and when she refused to leave him in the worst. He saw it when he saw her build walls to hide her broken heart after he asked her to leave. He saw it in her indifferent expression and a lone tear escaping her eyes when he told her he'd be better off without her.

And boy did he regret every word he said. He called her as soon as he realized what he did. That in order to save her, he might have just given her the biggest of the insecurities. It was a month later that it happened. He apologized to her, told her he never meant whatever he said, tried to explain why he did what he did. And she forgave. He couldn't believe his ears when he heard her say those words, he wanted her to yell at him, hate him, punish him for what he did but she said nothing more than a 'It's okay, I understand.'. And maybe that one sentence hurt him as much as he hurt her. She didn't even think of him good enough to be mad at. She shouldn't have understood, she should have argued. He might have lost the best thing that ever happened to him like that. And his fear proved right when he saw her photo in the newspaper, two months later, with a man. Joseph Hughes, a big name, apparently. The man he ran into, not so long ago, in missouri.

"Mr. Winchester." He heard the deep, masculine voice as it approached him, "Didn't know we'll meet again so soon."

If running into that man earlier made his heart heavy, meeting him with his arm around Y/N's waist made it fall down with a thud, "Mr and...Mrs Hughes. Fancy seeing you here, too."  He shook his hand with a firm shake, forwarding it toward the man's wife to do a similar action. Instead, she folded her hand in a namastey greeting, as she looked at him shocked, and scared. Maybe she didn't want her husband to know about him.

"I would ask how did you know she was my wife, but I guess you read newspapers." The man said in his smooth accent with a laugh, which Dean returned halfheartedly.

"Got that one right," he smiled at Hughes, his eyes lingering a little longer on Y/N, "Your wife is beautiful."

At the comment he saw her husband's hold tighten around her in sudden possessiveness, his fingers almost digging into her flesh as she flinched a little. He tore his gaze away from her, reminding himself she was someone else's wife and he had no right to be staring at her. But something about this whole situation felt wrong, that touch felt wrong.

She didn't look at him once after that. The tension in the air suffocated them both, and he was sure the shorter man in front of him felt it too, "Let's get you meet some of my friends, darlin'. If you could excuse us?"

Dean gave them the way, as he contemplated whether his decision of staying was even right. It crushed his heart seeing the woman he loved in someone else's arms. He felt like throwing up. Seven months ago, he couldn't have thought there'd be a day like this. He hated himself for that.

"Dean, do you want to go?" Sam's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"N-no," He cleared his throat when his voice came out rough and hoarse, "No, I guess I'll just go to the washroom. Go find some hot chick for me " he winked at Sam, who clearly saw right through it but didn't say anything. He stayed in the bathroom for a while, to calm his aching heart. People knew Dean as a man, as strong as an alpha, but here he was, falling weak. 

After splashing water on his face a few times, he got out of the bathroom just to see people frozen in their spots. His eyes went to his brother, immediately worried about his safety only to find him silently, but furiously glaring something, his hands were fisted like a beast about to attack its prey. When he followed his line of sight, he felt something similar inside of him. There stood Joseph Hughes towering his wife, glaring her down and his nails digging into her, now pale, arms, "I said, Tell. Me. The. Truth."

"I told you. He w-was a f-friend." Dean heard her voice for the first time in a long while, and his chest hurt at how small and scared it was. Y/N wasn't a hunter but she was fearless and brave. She had put her life on her palms so many times to save him and Sam without hesitating. That was one of the reasons he pushed her away, but here seeing her so helpless and terrified, he didn't know how to react.

"A friend, huh? A friend shouldn't look at you like that." His voice came out in a growl, audible in the pin drop silence, that sent visible shivers running down her spine, "That's why I don't leave you around men, you pathetic whore. I'm done being okay with you slutting around-"

Dean charged forward, enraged at the man's audacity to even let those words out of his mouth, but before he even took two steps, Y/N pushed that douche with enough force to make him stumble, pausing Dean mid-walk.

"You're done being oka-I AM DONE BEING OKAY!" Y/N raised her voice, violently shaking out of fear and rage. Joseph looked shocked, as if he never expected her to speak like that, as if she never spoke to him like that. The thought alone made Dean's eyes tear up, what had that monster done to her, "I am done being okay with the things I'm not okay with! I am done being okay with you touching me without my consent and I'm done being okay with getting slapped everytime I say no! I am done being okay with you locking me in and I am done being okay with you hitting me with whatever you find! I AM DONE WITH YOU!" She broke down into tears as she was done with her little speech.

"You are saying this here on purpose. You want me to lose my reputation." He said low, his eyes trying to scare her down.

"Y-yes, I'm saying this here on purpose because if I said it at home, you'd beat me to a pulp." She said, trying to sound low, but the eerie silence in the room making her damn well audible to his ears. Dean saw nothing but hot, white rage. Seeing Y/N so scared, so broken, Dean wanted nothing more than to break the bastard's bones, every single one of them. And when Hughes charged at Y/N, he lost whatever little control he had on himself jumping at the said man. Sam, immediately, went to Y/N's side as she hid in his chest, shaking like a dry leaf. Sam had never seen her so scared and so vulnerable. He felt a sharp pain in his heart seeing the sight of his best friend so broken, as he tightened his hold on her. Dean kept on hitting the man, like an animal that got out of its cage. His knuckles were bloodied, with which he didn't know was his blood or the other one's but he wasn't stopping. After what felt like forever, Dean was stopped by two strong arms around his own, from behind.

"Dean, stop. You'll kill him." Sam's calming voice fell into his ears, "stop"

It took Dean a while to register, as he tried to release his hands from his brother's still kicking the battered man that lied in front of him, "I don't care."

"Y/N wouldn't want you to kill him, Dean." And at that, he stopped. Y/N. Where was she? He stood up and searched for her, seeing her frozen at the same spot as earlier, zoned out and shaking violently. His heart hurt so bad seeing her like that, he couldn't stop tears from welling in his eyes.

"Y/N," he whispered as he took a few long strides to reach her and pull her into a careful hug.

She went stiff under his touch, as he loosened his hold on her, scared he might scare her before he heard her, barely, speak out, "Dean.." as she clinged to him for dear life. Hearing her say his name again wasn't as pleasant as he'd imagined a million times before, rather it was gut-wrenching. It was painful, because this was the last thing he had imagined that made her say his name. He wrapped his arms around her fully and spoke comforting words to soothe her.

"Let's go home, Y/N."

It had been a week she returned to the bunker, moving into her old room. Hughes was arrested, and divorce agreements were signed. He got to know that the thing between Y/N and Joseph was more of a business arrangement than a marriage proposed by her father, who had no idea about his son-in-law's abusive habits. Sam and Dean kept a positive atmosphere around the bunker, not going out for any cases, but there was no change in Y/N. She, mostly, kept herself locked up in her room, not talking to anyone. They thought it was necessary to give her her space but that was just deteriorating her health more. She ate too little for survival.

Dean stepped into her room with the plate of her favourite food. She loved it when he cooked for her, he just hoped to God, she still would. His eyes fell on her form, lying down on the floor, her back resting by the bed. She looked into a distance, zeroing her vision. As he went and sat beside her, keeping the plate on the floor, she spoke up, "He'll come back for me, Dean. He'll take me and he-"

"He won't," Dean cupped her cheeks and made her look at him as he met with the broken sight. Her eyes had sunken in, dark circles forming around them, face paler and her natural blush around her cheeks gone, "I promise I will not let anything happen to you."

She looked at him like she wanted to believe, but a sudden wave of anxiety stopped her, "No..no no no no, Dean! You don't understand! He..he will come back and he won't leave me. He'll beat me and...and those chains. He'll tie me up again and he'll...he'll-

She stopped mid-sentence, a horror coating her features. This new piece of information startled Dean, breaking his heart into two..enraging him, too. He didn't know how to react to it, so he did what his impulse told him to, he hugged her tight, hiding his face in her hair. More than comforting her, it was for himself. He wanted her close and safe, "He used knives, Dean. He said he loved seeing me bleed..it was so painful" Dean shut his eyes tight, trying to push away the horrifying images from his head, as he let the tears flow free. What all she had endured because of his one mistake. She sniffled as she continued in a small voice, "you won't be able to do anything, Dean. He's very powerful. You can save me from monsters, you can kill them..but him-"

"I'll kill him if he laid his finger on you ever again." Dean spoke with determination.

"N-no...No, Dean. You won't kill him. Don't kill him please, don't be like him." She shook her head violently in his chest, "not like him..no, no, no.."

"Hey, hey," he soothed her rubbing a hand on her back, "I won't. I won't be like him, okay? Shh.." It took Y/N a few minutes to calm down, while he rocked her in his lap, "You hungry?"

She shook her head, mumbling into his chest "I never feel hungry."

He sighed, "Okay. Eat a little, with me? Please? Because I'm starving."

Her eyes sparkled a little when she saw the food, "You made it?" He smiled and nodded, proudly, "Can I..can I eat the whole thing?"

He chuckled, heartily, "madam, all yours." She smiled up at him, hesitantly. As if trying to remember how to smile, at which his eyes softened, "when did you eat this last?"

She dug into the food, liking the taste of it. The taste of home, "with you. He didn't let me eat this, wanted me to look good like his wife should." 

Dean clenched his jaw at this, wanting to practically undo that man's existence. The things he did to her, he was sure if he saw him someday, that'd be his last.

Y/N looked at him, a little scared and a little more sheepishly, "Can I get some more?" Dean smiled at her and got her some more. He looked at her eating, his eyes filled with unshed tears. She was so, so pure, only if he could take away all her pain, make her forget those dark months. Only if he could give her all the happiness in the world, because there was no one he knew who deserved it more than her.

Later that night, Dean asked Y/N if he could stay with her because his nightmares scared him. He knew she understood what he meant, and the fact that she didn't deny made his heart flutter. Y/N hadn't slept in days. Either she would wake up from a nightmare, yelling, or not sleep at all. He just wished she'd have a goodnight sleep in his arms, and she did. But he didn't miss what she said just before she fell into the slumber, something the Y/N he knew would never say. Something that hurt his heart and made him make a silent promise to her, and himself. 

"Dean, don't send me away ever again. Please."

Never. He would never let her out of his sight again. He'd save her from every monster, supernatural or not. He didn't know long will it take her to fall for him again, or if she'd ever fall for him again. All he knew was, he'd shower her with so much love, she would forget every pain that son of a bitch caused her. He'd love her so much that she'd start loving herself one day. He would hold her so dear, that her scars would stop scaring her.

One day. One day, he'll make everything okay.

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I can't tag some of you. Please make sure your tags are open. :)

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Taglist:

@bi-danvers0 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @itsjaybro16 @mml232 @blablatiti @stilltoomuchafangirl @bat-shark-repellant @bluebell-24 @shortwinchester @always-money-in-the-banana-stand @soullessbabee @ima-be-a-mongoose @infinityspacesuniverse @vicmc624 @roonyxx @fandoms-fiend @slythermyg @perpetualabsurdity @whydontwejustgohunting @supraveng @coffeebooksandfandom @justafuckeduphuman @busy-bee-angel-misska @ria123love @woodworthti666 @ria12341-blog @supernatural-fan-123 @katiekitty261 @yxseminx

[snarkandsarcasmftw]

2020

Uh oh, it’s time for the cranky smol one to get sappy af. Prepare yourselves. Because yeah, I’m gonna get sappy.

This past year has been… To put it bluntly, it was one hell of a ride. I moved from state to state after spending the past two years taking care of my mother, I lost important people in my life (some through my own stupidity, others simply because they showed their true colors) and I lost a pet that for 13 years roughly, was a huge part of my life. I rescued a cat. I feel like this past year taught me a lot but the most important thing that it taught me was to be thankful for who/what I have in my life, because I might not always have these things/people.

Since there’s a loooot, holy shit so much.. I’ll put a read more.

REGRETS:

First of all, to the one person I’m no longer speaking to/following on here. I just know that you were a blessing in my life while you were around. I know we couldn’t ever really be close friends like we were before everything played out, but I truly hope the best things in life happen to you. You’re a good person, always know that. I hope you’re happier now and I hope that you eventually find and embrace your own inner truth without anxiety or fear. 

Secondly, there were a few people who I misjudged/let go of this past year that maybe I wish I hadn’t. If any of you are reading this, I’m so so so so sorry. I don’t know what made me do it, but I know that I just… Felt like I wasn’t as good as any of you and like I never really fit in, so rather than make you all keep dealing with me, I did what I thought was best and cut the cord. I really wish I hadn’t and I know it’s probably way too late, but I really am sorry. You were great people and I really do miss our talks and stuff. I just felt like I was in the way, so I took myself out. Anxiety is a real bitch and while that’s not an excuse for me just going silent / blocking you guys, it’s the simplest truth. I was in a bad place for a while there and in my own head too much. I’m better now, but I’m fairly sure that it’s too little & too late. So, once again, I’m so so so sorry. 

NEW FRIENDS:

Oh god, where to start? I made so many new friends this year on this blue hell-site. So many. And I’m thankful for every single one of you even if I somehow miss your name. On that note,I’m sorry in advance if I do and I mean nothing by it. Also, these are in absolutely no certain order. If I tried to go alphabetically, I’d probably wind up messing it up.

@xladyxfatex I am so, so, so, so glad you sent me that meme and we started to talk. It has been so much fun rp’ing again, and I’m really enjoying getting to know you better. I love our rp and you’re such a sweet person. I can’t wait to see where this year takes us.

@writtingrose you are an amazing writer and you’re a down to earth and sweet person. I was moved by your Beautiful To Me series (it’s plus size reader, you guys MUST go read it.) and I’m so glad I reached out. I can’t wait to start our rp, if you’re still down for it. I love reading your writing and I can’t wait to get to know you better.

@komaniac I absolutely love your love for Kevin. I really don’t get to talk to you often, but I’ll see your Kevin posts and I’m like sitting on my side of the computer screen silently nodding. Your Kevin content is always making me smile. I love you for that, never change.

@rampagewriting… I can’t remember which of us reached out first, but girl. I am so so glad we’re friends. You’re an amazing and strong person and I love all your fics. I love opening our DM and yelling about things with you, whether it’s Zak Bagans ( we deffo need to go ghost hunting one day, tbh) or any of our other favorites. I’m so glad we’re friends and I hope that we get to be even better friends during 2020.

@the-ville-idiot Wren, I love you. Seriously, I love you. You’re always so bubbly and happy and like… I legit enjoy our random conversations. We have a lot in common.

@doedreamss Ashley, I mean Doe. You’re such a sweetheart and I wish I had half the life experiences you have. I love you. I enjoy talking to you about certain cowboys and certain bad boys. I love your writing, I wish I wrote more like you did, tbh. I hope you never change and I hope we stay friends. If you ever need to talk or want to talk, you’re always welcome in my DM’s.

@robwiethoff I LOVE LOVE YOUR LOVE FOR HANGMAN. I aspire to love something/someone as much, tbh. I know I’m probably annoying af, but honestly, I enjoy talking to you. I hope to get to know you better, you’re a sweetheart. I love reading your writing / hearing your ideas and honestly, just.. I send you hugs.

@adamcolesteeth I’ve really enjoyed talking to you and I genuinely thank you for the random fake fic title prompts, because I’ve really had a blast doing them. I loved your Christmas Luchasaurus fic, it was so much fun to read.

@hardcorewwetrash we may not like the same football teams, ( roll damn tide, lol) but I honestly love to read your posts. You’re a real person and the world needs more of those. You speak your mind. I honestly wish I could just do that sometimes. It’s been so fun talking to you / seeing your posts on the dash. 

@country-believethat-gallowaywwe AHHHH. I LOVE THE TALKS WE HAVE ABOUT DREW. Also, thanks for all the picture inspiration you send me that one time I really, really, really needed it. I think you’re a sweetheart and I hope to get to know you better / have more talks in the future.

@twdeadfanfic I love your fics, first of all. You’re an amazing writer and you blow me away with each new one you post. I know we don’t get to talk often, but I enjoy talking to you. 

@heel-rollins you are a sweetheart. I love talking to you and I wish we got to talk more, tbh. 

@hamstxr I love your posts, they always make me smile. I wish we get to talk more and you seem like a really sweet person. 

@kittysilver86 Kitty, I love you. You’re a positive and sweet person and your writing is so good and so fluffy yet dirty, I love it. I love Ava as a character and I love these little universes you make up. Your posts always make me smile and honestly, I just wanna hug you. I really enjoy being friends with you even though we don’t get to talk often.

@schizoauthoress You’re a really kind person. I really enjoy your posts on my dash and I love the talks we’ve had there. If you ever wanna talk my DM’s are always open. You seem really down to earth and really open and I love that. I hope to get to know you better this year.

@vonschweetz Von, I am so proud of you. You’ve been through a lot and you went above and beyond to rise out of it all and you’re thriving now. You’re a huge inspiration and you’re so freaking sweet that like.. If anyone ever tried to hurt you, I’d probably give them these hands. I love talking to you, I love looking at your edits and I really, really, really love your fics. You always make me smile.

OLD FRIENDS:

@helluvawriter you’re a kind person and I love you so much. You’re a really amazing writer and you’re always so down to earth. You were the first friend I made in the wrestling fandom way back when and even though we don’t get to talk much anymore, I love you and I love our talks when we do. You’re an amazing mother. I hope if I ever get to be a mom, I’m like you. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@andie01  holy shit.. You’re so much fun to talk to. I love that you’re as blunt as me and that we can just DM back and forth about total randomness. I love Beasts, it’s one of my favorite fanfictions of all time. I love you so much. Like.. you’re an inspiration to me and i don’t think you realize that. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure First of all, you’re an amazing mother. And I am so happy for you and your little family! I love talking to you, even if we don’t get to talk that much anymore, I enjoy our talks when we do. You’re going to get me to write Alpha!Ethan Carter III yet, I promise. It’s coming. You inspire me and I love the random things you send me to look at. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@kayah16 I wish I was half as creative as you. I love reading your one shots and I love you. You’re a really amazing and kind person and honestly, the world could use more of that. There are so many times I’m having an absolute shit day and I log on and you’ve sent me a recipe or tagged me in something that makes me smile. I wish I could hug you. I hope I can help you as much as you’ve helped me. If you ever need me, I’m here. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@missjenniferb I love the random thirst tags and the dm’s at 1 am, they always make me smile. I love that you tag me in Bucky things now, because that’s kinda how I got so deep into him. I blame you for that. I really have so much fun talking to you because it’s like… the lengths of our dirty minds combined, and i live for that. You always make me smile, I just hope I make you smile too. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@heelsamizayn you’re also another person I started to talk to way back when and honestly, I really, really, really love you. You’re a sweet and blunt person who isn’t afraid to say what she thinks. I love talking to you, whether it be about any of our thirsts or whatever we’re writing or random stuff that irritates us both during the day. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@bo0kitten I really love our talks. We like a lot of the same bands, and you always have these well thought out opinions / facts on things. I love seeing you on my dash and I really wish we got to talk more often. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@chasingeverybreakingwave BB you really didn’t think I was going to forget you.. Noooo. Never. I love talking to you and I love your posts / live blogs. You dragged me kicking and screaming into Jimmy Havoc and I love you for it. You’ve also gotten me into music that I hadn’t ever heard before too. Never change, bb! I’m so glad we’re friends.

@calwitch MOM HI! I love you. And I will totally let you adopt me. You’re kinda stuck with me now. I love your posts and you never fail to encourage me when I need it most. You’re a sweet person and totally down to earth and open. Some of your comments on my fic posts have given me that little nudge when I needed it most and I can’t thank you enough for that. You’re an awesome and fun person and I love that you don’t hold back on anything. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@markostuntthesehoes I absolutely adore you and I love your writing. I love our talks, the things we’ve bounced back and forth over DM’s. You’ve gotten me to really appreciate people that I wasn’t sure about before talking to you. Your posts always make me smile and you’re an absolute gem. I’m so glad we’re friends.

[losttrans-lation]

”Do one thing everyday that scares you.” - Eleanor Roosevelt

Today was spontaneous. Which is something I’ve never truly been great at, but today I accomplished a goal. I went to the San Genero Festival and I didn’t have a full blown break down.

For my new followers who don’t know me, I suffer from CPTSD, which normally makes crowds really challenging for me. I never really enjoy attending large format events because I get overwhelmed, claustrophobic, anxiety ridden, and I can have panic attack’s.

It was the first time, in a very long time, that I actually enjoyed something so crowded. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t free of disarray, but it could of been much worse that it was.

I went early afternoon with @l.a.sjogren and her mother, and hunted out a restaurant for lunch. Then we walked around for a bit, and the crowd got really thick all of a sudden, which instantly started to make me insanely anxious. It passed quickly and we escaped the heavier crowd, then we did some light shopping. The anxiety passed as the day went on...

However we had left before I got to get some Italian sweets, and I had my mind set on buying these gold oak earrings I was eyeing earlier that day. I went uptown, to see if some friends would join me, but no one was free tonight. So I made a decision, to push through and go alone to the festival again. Something I never do, because I’m always too scared, I’m gonna have a problems with someone or myself.

I nervously headed back downtown as the sun set, with the earrings as my mission, and turned up the Spice Girls blaring in my ears. As I began walking up the subway stairs, I was stunned. The crowds were much worse at dusk, and upon arrival, I felt the middle of my chest start to throb relentlessly. I was starting to have a panic attack, and I felt utterly hopeless that I’d come all this way to have to go home.

I stopped, brought myself over to the side, and focused on trying to stay calm. I counted down from 100 by three, and tried to remind myself how much I wanted those earrings, rather then send myself into a panic. I started to relax, then I pushed myself into the crowd. Bobbing and weaving through the masses. My temples and cheeks began to become soaked wet with sweat, as I maneuvered through the people. Passing by strollers, wooden barricades, and even some tattooed white police officers.

The festival was alive at night, a beast in its own authentic right, but I tried to concentrate on the goal. The smells of the food, the loud brazen conversations, and rattling music created a haze clouding my mind. I started seeing the little lights down the blocks, bead up and then star out with gleam. I was becoming overwhelmed...

And then, I came across something, that struck the very core of my soul. In the corner of my eye, across the street... Candied grapes. Little red orbs on skewers, all poking out of round foam bowls, with the other candied fruit. These were something I truly loved, as a child in NEPA, and not something that’s findable everyday for sale. They sold them at the Italian Festival in Scranton, Pa - every late summer.

I couldn’t help but think of the sweet memories my mind began to conjure. Times when my family wasn’t arguing, times when I just got to be a child, and times when I was happy. Too often happiness was something I used force myself to be, when I wasn’t really happy at all... but today, it cleared the thick haze in my mind, from blinding me of finding joy in the festival at all.

I admired the candied grapes, like a dog eyeing a chunk of fresh beef, savoring the very moment it would touch my lips. I waited at the counter, asked for the treat, exchanged cash with the old Italian man, and grasped one straight off the skewer before I could even snap a photo.

It crunched in my mouth, as the grape bursted open, flooding my tastebuds with tart juice. The now hollow sticky sweet strawberry flavored shell, cracking with each snap of my jaw. Oh what heaven! What sweet solitude! I teared up a little, and thought about how something so utterly simple, could bring me back to a place of such joy.

I stepped between two booths, and thought to myself, how I wouldn’t of even remembered that, if I didn’t come back to the festival on my own. I took some deep breathes, pulled out my phone, and changed the music to Cher. Her voice began to echo between my ears, and I started breathing a little easier. Time to find the earrings...

Along the walk to the earring booth, I rattled through a grilled corn on the cob, a pink lemonade, one oversized chicken spedi kebab, and some homemade zepolis. Belly at max capacity! And while my face was covered in powdered sugar, I saw the booth shining across the street. Finally, I had reached my destination, and I was still somewhat in one piece.

The booth owner, who’s curly grey hair was now tied up, instantly remembered me. I had joked with her while admirering her wares. She greeted me with a warm open smile, grabbed my hand, and asked me if I had enjoyed the festival today. I smiled and nodded, then expressed my interest in the gold oak earrings. She wrapped them up, and as I passed her the cash, she made note to tell me “she’d knew I’d be back.”

I kindly thanked her, then continued further into the crowds, heading towards the exit end of the festival. As I reached the end, with earrings and even an extra grape skewer, wrapped up in my freshly bought bag. I wondered how much of my life I’ve missed because of fear... and how much I’d given up, because of it.

Something that might not be fixed overnight, but something that I’ll keep working on changing for the rest of my life.

Our journey does not define us, but reminds us, of who we truly are. Don’t let fear taint your existence.

#writer #writersofinstagram #transexperience #m2f #trans #transgender #cptsd #mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealth #onedayatatime #lessfearmorefun #creatingchange #vunerability #growth #survivor #myjourney #transtumblr #blog

[rosecorcoranwrites]

Writer’s Block

Writer's block doesn't exist, people say. It isn't a thing, isn't real. You're just not working hard enough, trying hard enough. Writing hard enough, I suppose. But how does one write hard, or harder?

Anyway, since writer's block doesn't exist, I wonder what it is, that gnawing at our frazzled brains— like an animate scribble from a pen when you want to check if it has enough ink— that just won't let us focus. What is that that hum, that buzz, that need to swing our arms and walk and walk and walk and walk and maybe never come back?

Since writer's block doesn't exist, it can't be that nameless anxiety over not measuring up to our past selves, who once wrote often, all the time, and easily, at that. It can't be that nagging wonder if our spark has been pinched out by cold white pages, stretching on infinitum to the future, forever.

Since writer's block doesn't exist, we can't use it to describe when our heads drown in a sleepy miasma of sore joints and undiagnosed depression, when we'd rather sleep and dream telling stories to ourselves in the quiet, instead of typing them out with aching wrists and piercing neck pain and watering eyes and clouded minds.

Since writer's block doesn't exist, what is it that sits in the path that leads from a series of logical plot points to that final confrontation, the crescendoing climax or soft denouement? That beast, fat and dumb, which offers no help whatsoever, except to crawl monster-like across the page catching its tar-black flesh on hastily patched plot-holes, tearing them up in its wake.

Since writer's block doesn't exist, it can't be those crossroads we come to where sits a ragged figure, somehow both urchin and crone, who sings a song of two equally delicious and devastating fates depending on which road our characters take. The figure seems kindly, but gives off a feeling that whichever way we choose will be a one-way trip.

Since writer's block doesn't exist, what’s to stop us from pouring out a novel in a few months? A week? Why not a day? Nothing but those nameless Things that haunt our dark imaginations, whispering Things that shouldn't be spoken of in front of other writers. “I'm tired.” “I don't know where to go from here.” “There's something off, and I don't know what it is.” “It's hard to start things.” “It's hard to end them.” “I don't know what's wrong with me”

I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know... because writer's block doesn't exist, but for some reason, I still can't bring myself to write.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

I would just like to say something

It’s come to my attention that certain people who I thought I could trust in a group chat (lol apparently not) are going around spreading stuff to anti Newtina blogs to get them riled up about how “two faced” and shit we are.

How do I know this? Someone (who shall remain nameless) sent me these screenshots:

^This is an anon sent to a blog I’ve not only blocked but reported on numerous occasions. Looking forward to being exposed, anon, since on our servers we literally just post pictures of pets and talk about everyday life.

Now about the whole “artist” thing...honestly, I don’t need to defend myself because there’s nothing to defend. She harassed me, left rude messages on my Instagram and YouTube, and that’s that. She is now blocked on all of my social media accounts too. End of story. Did I say stuff about her in the vent channel of a discord? Yeah, because she started commenting crap on my Instagram and starting arguments with me in my DMs. End of.

The important thing, however, is that this drama? I ain’t here for it, peeps. I block and move on - holding grudges isn’t good for you and makes you bitter. Having said that, it’s not exactly nice for me anxiety-wise to know that people are chatting lies behind my back (among other worse things, including making sure I got fired from MuggleNet - aren’t you all lovely)

So here’s some things I want to make as clear as freaking possible to everyone who comes on my blog, whether you’re here to be my friend or to harass me:

Up until recently, I was a primarily Fantastic Beasts blog. In fact, before the giant purge of Dec 2018, I was on a totally different blog that I’d used since I was 13. (- @newt-loves-tina for anyone curious)

I did email about getting it back but now? I’m really not bothered. I love my new blog I’ve created.

I’m no longer as active in the Beasts fandom. Like at all. Sure, I reblog the odd thing, maybe add a headcanon or post here and there, but I’m NOT in the fandom like I was. In fact, I’m barely in it nowadays because of the fandom toxicity (yikes)

I don’t know how much further away from being a Beasts blog I can get now - my username is no longer Beasts, there’s no Beasts profile pic/header and there’s no mention of it in my blog title/info. I seriously don’t know how else to say “I’m not that into it right now”.

There are many, many, many reasons I’m no longer an active fic writer or member for the Fantastic Beasts fandom, and that is the fandom itself. It’s a horrible environment to be in and I recognized that a) I wasn’t enjoying it anymore and b) I wasn’t a good person while I was in the fandom as intensely as I was.

That’s not to say I don’t still like the films - I love the films, and I’ve spoken before about how much they’ve helped me. But it’s just the actual online part of it is fucking horrendous, and I am NOT here for it.

It’s not just the anti Newtina squad - clearly, judging by the fact there’s a mole on one of the Beasts servers I’m a part of (and which I’m rarely active on, most of the time), it’s people who are also Newtina shippers. I get along with people who ship Newtina, I get along with people who don’t...it’s not like I single out my followers/friends and demand they ship it. Honestly, ship and let ship!

I have never, not once, claimed to be perfect or to have the only right opinion. I’m literally just a 21 year old dork with a dumb blog that talks too much about HTTYD nowadays. I say shit that I later regret and I learn from it. But it is my blog, and I feel that I’m entitled to post my opinion about ships/stuff on it.

I said this both here and on my old blog but I know I did bad things, and I was a horrible person to be around for a while. I realized that, apologized, and tried to move on the best I could. Having said that, I don’t think it warrants having SEVERAL blogs set up exclusively to point out every wrong thing I ever did, nor to go around talking behind my back. It’s also ridiculous that MANY things I did were either taken out of context (for example, getting mad because someone told me to kill myself after my nan died - shouldn’t have lost my temper, agreed, but you can kinda see why I blew up) or brought up over a year after they were said. And as I said, some of those twisted things got me fired from a job at MuggleNet (though to be fair, I’m glad I don’t work for them now - that’s a whole other thing though).

If you have an issue with me, either DM me or block me - it’s really that simple, and saves argument from both sides. This is exactly why I left the FBAWTFT fandom, at least for now, because it’s a toxic environment all around and really does my mental health no good at all.

Other than that, I don’t know what y’all want from me. I’ve already apologized to the people I’ve hurt, left the fandom and moved on, so I literally can’t do much else.

[thesides]

♔ ROMAN SANDERS ↬ POSITIVITY 

“he was the royal heart of gold.”

A Prince’s Royal Declaration.

I can’t do it. I can’t be what I want to be.

My Lady, Lord, or Non-Binary Royal, that simply isn’t true. I know I live in a world where castles cascade the mountains and knights defend every person. I know that, in your land, it may be as if though you are shackled. It’s like someone has put a curse on you - perhaps that annoying Dragon Witch. But, have no fear!

Every curse has a magic spell to remove such. And in your land, every negative thought can be fixed with a positive one. The ideas that exist in your land is love, passion, loyalty, and trust. These things are more powerful than any magic my kingdom has.

At times, you may think that you lack those very things. It might seem like nobody loves you, that everyone will betray you, and that you’ll never go anywhere- but my dear royal, never believe in those lies!

I will fight with every fiber of my being, every day and every night, against those lies. Even if that Dragon Witch is against me, I will fight, so if to make you happy, so if to make you see the truth.

My grandeur lover… you are everything and more.

You can climb those castles of happiness, fight those beasts of might. You can power through the depths of the night, to finish that quest you’ve been attended. You can romance your way with your special words or actions. You can gain those companionships and that friendship circle of trust. You can make wonderful works of art - of literature, of editing, of speaking, of being. You can do anything, my charming noble.

Don’t ever let anyone shackle your Creativity.

I am here to help you, my love.

You are always free.

A Prince’s Noble Tips.

What can I do about it?

So glad you asked, you dashing looking royal! Whenever you feel as though you cannot make it, I have asked the greatest of scribes to write down the most helpful tips and tools!

[Writer’s/Artist’s/Editor’s] Block

Oh, I have heard of this monstrosity! Thomas gets it all the time, but nothing to fear! Here are a few tips about what to do!

⭑A Musical Never Hurt Anyone!

⭒ Ah, I love singing~! But, I have found that singing does help those juices get flowing! What we don’t think, we speak - And singing lets you put so much emotion into it. What do you sing? Well, anything! Perhaps a song about overcoming an obstacle? Just sing, and soon you’ll find lyrics coming out into a full-fledged story/art/edit!

⭑My Kingdom~!

⭒ Get a fellow royal to discuss your idea or anything with! Even if your idea is as simple as, ‘I want Roman to get the princess,’ your friends will often ask questions! Like, ‘Where is the Princess?’ ‘Who is the Princess?’ ‘What is Roman wearing?’ ‘Make sure it’s a good outfit, because a prince has got to slay~!!’

⭒ Live in a secluded forest or a far village? No worries, you can always come to me with your ideas~!

⭑BURN BABY BURN!

⭒I absolutely love candles! While ours are lit by magical dragon-breath, you can have yours with simple fire! When I smell something miraculous, I often times come up with fascinating ideas! A vanilla cupcake candle? Ooh, what if I did a baking competition with Logan? [Of course, I’d win, but the thought is still out there!] Don’t like the smell of seashells? Then write an epic about travel over the sea, or draw someone terrified about it! Perhaps a young boy’s father is a sailor, and the boy tries to overcome his fear of the sea? That would be miraculous to see/read!

⭑Storytime!

⭒ Ooh, I love this one! The historian of my kingdom always throws a fit whenever I arrive, but hang with me! Remember that boring old hike in the forest? Well, let’s stretch the honest truth a bit more! That boring old hike was interrupted by you spotting a mysterious footprint in the ground.  And then- HUZZAH, A DRAGON WITCH! Hi-Ya, Hi-Ya, TAKE THAT YOU IMBECILE! There’s more sword where that came from- ...oops, I got a bit into character there. Take a memory and make a story/art/edit from it! Change everything, but use what you have!

⭑The Curse Hasn’t Lifted?

⭒ Have no fear! If you ever need something to kick in for your absolutely beautiful creativity, come to me! I had a scribe write down so many ideas, and I wouldn’t be opposed to handing them out to you loveable and loyal royal!

A Beast’s Insults

Ah… yes, I’ve had my own fair share of beats and monsters yelling out insults left and right. Yet, none of those sting as much as my villagers of the kingdom insulting me behind my back. It hurts, more than it should… But a Prince can’t be brought down by measly insults! Which is why I’ve gotten a long list of quests you can attempt to lower that anxiety! (…Not Virgil, but your own anxiety)

⭑Allergies Are Horrible, But Nature Is Not

⭒When I find myself torn apart by an insult, a quick walk in the deep Fairy Forests often allow me to realize their insults hold no power of me. Perhaps its the fairy dust or magic spells lying around the forest… But while you might be a bit far from the Fairy Forest, any old woods would help. The tranquility of just nature really is one to calm the nerves!

⭑The Royal Parliament Decrees…

⭒Often times, even the wonderful wilderness of my Kingdom fail to help me. That’s when I leave the beautiful land I have and go back to the Mindscape. There I have all the friends I could ever want. Logan’s objective words ease my mind, Patton’s hugs help my heart, and Virgil calms me down with techniques. Sometimes, all someone needs is to be listened to. Talking with someone or your fellow royals can especially help!

⭑Epic Fail Compilations Of All My Enemies!

⭒Oh, I do love the techno nymphs that create all these fascinating machines! Whenever I feel down, they usually recommend me a video or two. Ones that include fail compilations or some cute cat videos, they never cease to make me happy once more! The insults soon fade away when I see there’s so much more happiness in this beautiful land!

⭑Still Being Attacked By The Ogres of Procrast Nation?

⭒ No fear! You are beautiful and amazing, in both personality and looks, my dear royal. You have always been such a constant support of my own world, and it is my time to send my support to you! All those insults are lies, my love. Do not believe in them - For I have now declared them false~!

A Prince’s Parting Letter.

I don’t think any of what you said is true… I’m horrible at everything.

You may be at a time in your glorious story where you are facing some conflicts. Every exciting story has one, but for the main character, it’s often times a whole sequence of agony. Yet, don’t fall into despair! There is a reason that “And they lived happily ever after,” exists!

Your story is one of greatness, and that means there will be a happy ending. While it may not appear to you in your magic mirror in this moment, I have heard from several known witches that happiness will come to you!

If you are alone, I will gather my friends around you. If you are in despair, I will be there to fight off those demons. If you are just sad… I will save you from the evil Dragon Witch’s curse!

Remember… villains will always strike you down.

But stand back up, and strike them harder.

And if you need a helping hand in your quest….

I will be at your side.

                                                Your Lovely Prince,

[royal subjects (like this post to join!!): @leesacrakon @fairy-cat-friend @awesomelissawho @lamp-calm-sanders @thisimmortalnerd @ssides @monkeygirl2455 @lukeisfluffy @pirate-patton @preyed-llama @longlivethecarcrashstars @undertale-trash217 @thepusheenqueen @importantrunawaystudentstuff @adreamoverlife @powerfulwoman03  @thetrashyloser @random-sanders @thegeekgirl42 @consultinghuntertimelady @patton--here @frisk-is-flowerfallen @musicphanpie-b @cecilia-blaze @phantomstudies @doctorwhitttaker @morticiaadams1 @bookworm411 @violetflowerprincess @galacticallynonbinary @super-writer-gal @purplepatton @cinnamonrollpatton @amazable01 @sanders-sides-enthusiast @pinkglitterandbruises @neetrash @magicalwolfgirllupus @spookyghostio @getlostinthedark @vathpro @preciousbeaan @fander-phangirl @half-blood-geek @litplants @flowerbubb @virgillikespurple @just-someone-in-flannel @rosetylerx10doctor @dudlebuggs @simplelittlestar @stevie-is-a-nerd @mythicalquill @pumakittycat @pattoncakesvirgil @de-is-me @the-baddest-bitch-in-slytherin ]