#as long as you look it online people are pleased no matter how shitty you are in real life

[mouse-wife]

if u missed my stream yesterday, i tried to boot up bravery network online just to mess around with singleplayer for a bit. if you haven’t heard of the game it’s a turn based competitive game that plays a lot like pokemon at the competitive level. it also has a gorgeous art style and incredible music. it never really blew up, but it had its dedicated fans and i liked it quite a lot back when it came out.

sadly it turns out that game’s servers went offline around march of this year! and the game can’t even run singleplayer without being online so the game at this point is just a text box that tells you servers are down. trying to look at the game’s website and the collective that made the game’s website they’ve both been turned into obvious spam.

so i spent an hour or so delving through the games (now mostly inactive) discord server and tried to learn what i can. the devs have been completely silent on social media for about 2 years, but someone who emailed the lead dev damian about the servers received a reply.

it’s weird damian said this since the servers have been down for about 9 months now with zero communication and the steam page for the game still remaining up with no indication the game is completely nonfunctional. i dont think anyone is trying to run a scam here or anything since refunds exist, but it is kinda shitty and unprofessional.

besides that the game’s last real appearance was on beastie ball’s kickstarter page showing damian as a collaborator.

people on the discord were happy to see the game acknowledged on any level. i am too.

i really loved bravery network online. i didn’t spend too much time with it, but i had a LOT of hope for what that game could become. they made a game like competitive pokemon WAY more accessible and in my opinion more fun. despite the hardships the game had i tried to be as positive as i could about it, but at this point i’m really disappointed that nobody could be bothered to stamp an “on indefinite hold” on the steam page. or worst case scenario just delist it. if possible i would hope some kind of offline patch would be made, or even some way to let the game run peer to peer but with how much of the system was server-side i have no idea how much of that is possible.

really i just want to post about this here because i don’t know how long the discord server will hold out. it’s not completely dead, but its far from active. it’s impossible to say how long any pages or servers or anything attached to this game will stick around. please know that this game mattered to me and some other people quite a lot. that’s all.

if you want to see a bit of the game i did stream it back when it was still around. theyre some of my first streams so theyre probably not great, but hey its not like u can go play it yourself

#marcy moment #bravery network online

[moku-youbi]

Entitled AO3 Commenters

Fam, we really need to talk about the toxic behaviour that's going on in AO3 comments these days. I know there's a lot going around about how people just want to consume, consume, consume, and move onto the next thing, and most don't even bother to kudo or comment, which is pretty heartbreaking as it is.

But sometimes, I think the folks that *do* comment, but do so in a shitty, entitle way, are even worse. Because it's like wow, you put in the time and effort to make a comment, but you were an absolute douche about it. Now, in some of these cases, I wonder if it's just young people who are new to the world of ao3 and just don't know better. Maybe they honestly don't realise what's wrong with the things they've written. So let's look at a few examples of shitty comments, and talk about why they're shitty, and what could be done to make them more acceptable.

I'm giving people the benefit of the doubt here, even when it's difficult to do so. I'd like to believe that it's just a difference in age and how we've learned to communicate with strangers online. So please, if you're guilty of these things, instead of getting angry or hurt seeing this, just think about how to do better?

So a lot has been said about the "when are you going to update again/I'm desperate for an update/" or even the *shudder* "since you haven't updated in x, I'm going to put this through an AI engine to finish the fic!" comments:

Setting aside the fact that this fic is 44 chapters and over 180k words in length, and this person never left a single comment on it or any of my other fics to tell me they enjoy my work, and how shitty it feels to know your work was apparently loved and appreciated, but not enough to actually *say* that except to demand more of it, sooner... AND the fact that I have long notes on the fic and the series about why the parts are being written and posted in the order they are...

Let's talk about why these comments aren't helpful, and in fact can often have the opposite effect of what you're hoping. Authors are already likely feeling crummy about their writer's block or real life circumstances getting in the way of working on that WIP, and these comments compound the guilt we feel, which makes it even more difficult to work on. It can make us want to avoid even looking at/thinking about that WIP, no matter how well-meaning the comment.

Fic writers are real people with real lives. I only have a couple hours free time to myself everyday, and a lot of times I'm so tired I just want to do something that's mindless fun. Most nights, however, I forgo a movie or video game (IDEK the last time I played a game! and I love gaming!) or reading to work on my WIPs. Even so, these comments are a reminder that to the people reading, that's not enough. They will consume my story, not bother to thank me for it, then demand more.

Often times, you can leave the same comment going on about how much you love it, just delete the parts asking about updates and/or assuming the fic is abandoned, okay?

Next we have the 'did not bother to read the tags and/or author's note' commenters:

The problem with this comment is that this fic is tagged as "no archive warnings apply" which means there is no underage content. Furthermore, while his age isn't explicitly stated in the fic, I have made it clear he is an adult, in college within the text of the story. I have the following in my author's notes at the beginning of the fic: "Tom Holland is my Spider-Man, but I have aged him up here, as he's in college, so. Feel free to imagine whichever spidey floats your boat"

If I'm going to give this commenter the benefit of the doubt (something that is increasingly difficult to do with anti culture), then at best, they do not read tags, summaries, or notes, and expect to be able to ask an author prior to reading their works to answer a comment that is already addressed multiple times.

If you're honestly worried about being triggered, or reading content you don't want to read, then I suggest just straight up avoiding fics that aren't clear enough to you from the tags/summary/notes. If you've read all those and it seems ambiguous, just skip it. Or if the story still sounds good, then maybe just skim the beginning of the story, even. Context clues are your friends, my dudes. If the character is a college student, chances are good they're adults.

The 'lacks reading comprehension' commenters:

Is it wrong to ask questions of an author when you don't understand something? I actually think it's a great way of interacting with authors and can lead to better understanding and appreciation of the work. However, there are a few problems with *how* you ask a question.

First of all, the problem commenters have not previously left a comment of any kind, and don't bother to include any sort of positive feedback along with their question. They just rock up to your inbox demanding an answer to a question they have, that makes you realise they weren't even really paying attention to your work (or the source material for that matter.)

In this case, smartphones don't exist in the canon work, and only exist in my fic because the characters have suddenly been thrust into a different universe. Klaus doesn't understand smartphones because he grew up with them. He is able to quickly adapt to the new technology of the world, while others, like Viktor, are confused by it. This is all explained quite thoroughly in the text.

The 'doesn't know how to google' commenters, who might also be the 'disingenuous question' commenters:

Again, going to give this commenter the benefit of the doubt that they aren't just an asshole anti. So you don't know what Thorki is, but you're on AO3, home of All The Relationship Tags. Even if you didn't think to search it there, google exists, and is your friend. Type Thorki in there, and it's not even like you've got to narrow your search or add 'ship' or anything. The top result is the Thorki page of shipping wiki, and the next several links are photos of Thor/Loki. There is literally no other result given on the first page of google.

But LBR, this is likely an anti trying to subtly shame me for shipping Thorki. In which case, I'd invite you to look at my author page and see the types of fics I write regularly, and maybe just take your nonsense elsewhere.

The 'why are you here?' commenters:

Again, it's not like there's anything wrong with this kind of question! I too have seen PFPs of people on AO3 and been curious myself. The problem is, once again, coming onto one of my works and, without acknowledging the work that I've put so much time and effort into the thing they're commenting on, they just demand an answer.

What's particularly bewildering about this is that it isn't even in the 4 most recent works I've posted. So instead of just seeing my PFP and clicking on the first thing they see and asking there (still a little rude, but maybe more understandable??) it seems they were here to look at my work, and in doing so saw my PFP, and decided to ask.

Look, there's a way to ask these kinds of questions, young folks, and so I present to you

The proper way to ask a question commenter <3 :

Look at that! The commenter was able to get their question answered, and I was delighted to respond to them, because they took a few lines to tell me that they'd appreciated the work it pertains to. Honestly, I don't even need that much, although it's sincerely appreciated and makes my day. But even a simple "Loved the story, it was a lot of fun. BTW--that house..." would be cool.

We've all had those times when we get a burning question reading the fic--

"Is it possible they were referencing those lyrics??? I mean, it's not a very popular song, but it seems so obvious!!!" (probably, and the author is likely gonna be super excited you know that song, too)

"Did that line mean to insinuate what it did? Is that foreshadowing? Are those characters secretly screwing?" (the author may play coy, or they might be super excited you picked up on the thing they were hinting, or maybe they'll be annoyed you ruined the surprise?? but that's on them being brought up in the Marvel era of no spoilers)

Or indeed the questions about PFP or what house/city/clothing you used as reference.

But unless you're a regular commenter, popping up with just that question is abrupt at best, and shows a lack of common courtesy. Like, okay. Imagine running up to your favourite actor/singer/author in public and instead of saying "I'm a huge fan/I loved X/you're an amazing author/lyricist/actor/etc", you just immediately start bombarding them with questions "When are you going to write a new song/What did you mean on page 126 when you said/why did you decide to write these two characters together/etc etc."

Just imagine that you are addressing a living person with real human feelings, and ask yourself, if I were talking to them face to face, would this be an acceptable way to address/open a conversation with a stranger.

#ao3 etiquette #ao3 comments #ao3 #comments #fandom #the author is a human person

[whorkn33]

I’m Not Sorry

genre: smut, Reader/Komaeda Nagito words: 5289 warnings: GN!Reader, Ultimate Telepath Reader, dry humping, reader is very mentally ill summary: You’re invited to Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Telepath. There, you meet a boy who says exactly what he thinks.

read it on ao3, where the formatting is slightly less shitty

☆~☆

“Could we… keep this between us, for now?”

Your new teacher looks at you with a confused expression. Her ponytail swings behind her head as she straightens, smoothing out her skirt. “Well, why? Your talent is wonderful. You shouldn’t feel like you need to hide from your classmates.” Her brow furrows. “Nothing good comes from telling lies like this, you know.

“I don’t want to be treated differently.” You explain softly, pulling your uniform blazer tighter around you as the orange light of the setting sun warms your skin. “When people find out, they always start thinking about me like I’m some kind of… specimen. I don’t want that.”

Her expression softens a bit, and you can feel her weighing her options. “... You realize you can’t hide from them forever, right? It would take them no effort at all to look up your name online and learn everything about you.”

“I know I can’t stall for very long, but still.” You clear your throat, eyes fixated on the ground. “Just for a little while, I’d like them to think of me like I’m a normal person.”

“Isn’t normal boring, though?” Her voice has a bit of a sing songy tone to it, like she feels this is a trivial matter, like she isn’t taking you seriously. “What would you like me to tell them instead, hm?”

“Tell them I got bumped up from the reserve course. That’s possible, right?” You ask, tracing the pattern of the wooden desks with your eyes. She sighs. “Well, yeah, but everyone would have heard about something like that already. It won’t work. Why not just come clean?”

“Tell them I am a surprise.” You stiffen, making your voice sound more firm. “I don’t care. Make something up if you have to.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not doing that. You’ll be introduced as the Ultimate Telepath when you come to class on Monday.” Sighing, she leans against her desk. “I can’t let you lie to the whole class like that. It’s not a good way to start out your relationship.”

Growing frustrated, you lift your eyes to her face, and peer past the surface layer. You find emotions, hopes, fears. You delve deeper, deeper, pulling back layer after layer of irrelevant trivia that you aren’t interested in. That’s where you find it.

“Lie for me,” Your face and voice turn stone cold as you stare her down. “Or I’ll tell Kyosuke how you feel about him.”

“I- huh?” She blinks, and confusion floods through her. You watch the panic rise in her chest as she stumbles over her words, thoughts running a mile a minute. You remain stoic.

“Y-you… you can’t do that. You wouldn’t.” She laughs nervously, but she doesn’t believe what she’s saying. Your head tilts. “Then I’ll tell the headmaster what you’re really up to.”

She freezes, her confusion melting into frustration. She’s chipper, upbeat, and peppy, but she’s no idiot. 

“Fine,” She relents. “Everyone will think you’re a Reserve Course student. Nothing more.”

You smile.

“Now, was that so hard?”

The following Monday, you stand at the front of the classroom with a nervous smile, keeping your eyes on the floor. Miss Yukizome pats you on the back.

“Everyone, please say hello to your new classmate. They’ve just transferred over from the Reserve Course, and they’re a bit shy, so please give them a warm welcome.” Her voice is light and cheery. “Nanami, would you be so kind as to show them around during lunch break?”

“Yeah.” A soft, airy voice murmurs. Your new teacher nods. “Thank you! And you can sit…” She looks around the room for an empty desk. “... Komaeda! Could you please raise your hand?” 

A boy with white hair sitting near the back raises his hand, and Miss Yukizome gestures to him. “Please have a seat next to Komaeda.”

As you walk between desks towards the boy, you catch a few stray thoughts around the room.

‘... since when was a Reserve Course student transferring over?...’

‘... can’t believe they have to sit next to the creep, how cruel…’

‘... I wonder if Sato knows them?...’

Ignoring them, you sit down at your desk, lowering your bag to the floor next to you and taking out a notebook and a pen. Your teacher smiles and turns around to begin writing on the chalkboard, but you struggle to focus on what she’s writing. The boy next to you is thinking, in a way you’ve never heard before. It’s intense, heavy, nearly crushing you under its weight. Warily, you look over at him, finding his murky green eyes boring into you, the flood of emotion getting even stronger.

Oh, wow. This boy hates you, and you haven’t even opened your mouth yet.

You aren’t sure you even want to find out why, worried that peeking past the surface will give you some new insecurities you didn’t even know existed, so instead you swallow thickly and smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope we can be friends.”

Your words only amplify his distaste for you. Looking you up and down, he hums. “We cannot.” Then he turns his head and looks at the chalkboard, completely ignoring your entire existence. You can still feel his hatred, his disgust with you simply for existing, but more than that, in your own chest you feel shock at his honesty. He didn’t fake a smile or try to force conversation when he didn’t want it. He was simple, straightforward, and to the point.

You like him already.

At lunch, the class President - a pink-haired girl called Nanami - shows you around the school grounds. She’s very kind, from what you can tell, and when you look her in the eye you find a deep caring for all her classmates, including you. How odd. Why does she care that much when she’s known you for maybe a day?

“So,” She starts once the tour is over. “How long are you gonna keep up the act?”

“Huh?” You blink at her, confused. Pulling out her PSP, she powers it on, watching the screen buzz to life. “I thought your name was familiar, so I looked you up during class. Why are you pretending to be a Reserve Course student?”

Suspicious, you peer ast the top layer, but find her to be entirely genuine and innocent in her intentions. She thinks no differently of you now than she did this morning; seeing you only as a potential friend.

“People… treat me different, when they find out what I can do.” You clear your throat, looking away. “Some people treat me like I’m some science experiment for them to play with. Others say I’m a creep, that I invade people’s privacy. I don’t think they understand. I can’t help but hear the things I do.”

“Is that why you’re always looking at the floor?” She starts a new game. You nod. “Right now, your thoughts are just… vague feelings to me. But if I look you in the eye, it’s all much clearer, more intense. If I could stop it all together, I would.”

“It must be exhausting, surrounded by so many thoughts all the time, all of them affecting your own.” You feel sorrow, pity, coming from her. You swallow hard. “It is.”

“Well, if you ever need to get away, nobody ever goes out into the field behind the school.” She points in its general direction. “There’s a bench under a tree out there. You can eat lunch, or just spend some time alone.”

“That… sounds nice.” You smile softly. “Thank you, Nanami.”

“Call me Chiaki.” She looks up from her game and smiles, and when you meet her eyes there is nothing but friendliness and concern, a desire to help.

“Thank you, Chiaki.” You smile back. You like her, too.

The afternoon goes about how you would expect, sitting through lessons. You keep your eyes on your own paper as you take notes, and do your best to ignore the air of negativity on your left side.

When the bell rings and you start packing your bag, a girl with short red hair approaches your desk with a smile. “Hey! You’re from the Reserve Course, right?”

You look up at her. She’s nervous, but more than that, she’s curious. You nod. “Yeah, I am.”

“Do you happen to know a girl named Sato?” She tilts her head. “She’s a friend of mine from Middle School, and I thought you might know her.”

“Sorry, but I didn’t really talk to many people when I was over there.” You peel back the layers, finding what you expect from people around your age - insecurity, anxiety, but in her you also find a strong moral compass. Underneath it, though, you find suspicion. Gotcha. “I wasn’t really popular at all. I don’t think anyone will even notice that I’m gone, honestly.”

Pity. “Don’t say that! I’m sure your old classmates were super sad to see you go.” She looks almost offended on your behalf. “And if they weren’t, then they aren’t worth your time anyway! You deserve better!”

You smile softly. “Thank you for being so kind to me. It makes me happy that you think of me that way.”

She’s not being entirely untruthful - she does believe you deserve better, but not because it’s you. She thinks this way about everyone, believes everyone should be respected. You suppose that’s the best you should hope for.

As she walks away, a voice sounds beside you. “Do you really deserve her kindness, though?”

You look over at Komaeda, who stares at you with his cold, stony expression. His dislike of you sinks into your skin like a set of sharp teeth, and you fight the urge to wince. You smile at him instead. “No, I suppose not.” Peel back a layer. “I’m just a Reserve Course Student, after all.”

“Oh? So you’re at least self-aware in being garbage?” His head tilts, wild hair swaying. Something flashes through him - recognition, empathy, understanding. He hums softly. “Good for you.”

He stands to leave, the room already mostly empty, and without thinking, you reach out to stop him. “Komaeda, wait.”

He pauses, looking at you, and you find annoyance, but also curiosity.

“I want to spend time with you after school.” You say. “May I?”

His confusion grows, and his repulsion actually diminishes just a tiny bit. He hums softly. “No, you may not.”

And then he leaves you sitting there. Sitting in a pool of rejection. Raising your hand, you bite down on the knuckle of your index finger to stifle your squeals.

The next morning, as you sit down and take out your notebook, you smile at him. “Good morning, Komaeda.”

Confusion. Surprise. ‘Why are they bothering with me? Shouldn’t they be offended?’

“Morning.” He replies. Your heart skips a beat.

“I want to spend time with you after school.” You fight to keep your voice level. “May I?”

He rolls his eyes. “No. Do you plan on asking me until I say yes? Because that’s not going to work.”

He’s right. It won’t. But you desperately need him to talk to you. Never before have you felt such honest hatred of your very existence. When he says you’re trash, he means it so wholeheartedly. There’s no underlying motive to his dislike of you. 

“I’m just going to keep asking.” You breathe. “I like the sound of your voice.”

His eyes snap up to meet yours, and you’re flooded with new feelings. He’s flustered, confused, wondering if he heard that right. A distant voice echoes in the back of his mind. ‘Is this Reserve Course student flirting with me right now?’

“Are you flirting with me?” He asks, and you have to restrain yourself so you won’t flap your hands in glee. Speaking his thoughts practically word for word. You’ve never been so enamored. “Do you want me to flirt with you?” You reply, unable to contain the nervous wavering in your voice.

‘Is that… hope in their voice?’ His murky green eyes flick over your expression - you look through his eyes and realize you look a little silly, so eagerly waiting for his response on the second day of even knowing him. You just can’t help yourself though, and that feeling only amplifies when you hear his next thought; ‘For a reserve course student, they’re cute.’

“Do whatever you want.” He looks away from you, but you still feel it - a shyness, a vague sense that he isn’t worth your attention no matter how far below him you are. You feel the overwhelming urge to press yourself against him, get as close as possible until you can feel his skin against yours, until it’s the only sensation you’re aware of. But you resist. Class is about to start.

As you’re walking out to the tree for lunch, Chiaki catches up to you. “Hey, I noticed you talking to Komaeda this morning. Are you alright?”

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, Komaeda’s…” She looks away. Hesitation, the desire to be polite without watering down the truth. She sighs. “He can be pretty mean to Reserve Course kids. He sees them as unworthy of attending Hope’s Peak or something, since most of them pay their way in.”

“Oh, I know. I looked.”

She stares for a moment. “Right. I forgot you could do that.” She clears her throat. “So what were you talking about?”

You take a seat on the bench under the tree. “Oh, I was flirting with him.”

“... Huh?” Shock. Confusion. You giggle. “What? He’s cute, but he’s also honest. I like those things in a person.”

“Wait, so is he like… being nice to you?” She tilts her head.

“Oh, no. He hates my guts and thinks I’m trash.” Your heart starts racing just thinking about it. “He’s so honest about it, though. Every thought he has about me is undoubtedly negative, but when he opens his mouth, he doesn’t water any of it down! He hates me openly and fairly. Like I’m nothing to him.” You bite your nails and suppress your laughter. “I’ve never been treated like this before.”

Chiaki stares at you, and you feel confusion, a desire to understand but a worry she may never be able to. You giggle again, and it bubbles forth into laughter, a sound that racks your body in waves you can’t control. She cringes at the sound. “... Alright. If that’s what you’re into, I guess.”

You watch her walk off until she’s out of your range, and now there’s nobody to pick up on. It’s just you, and your own feelings and thoughts. It’s good to be empty - especially while eating your lunch. Everyone eating at the same time makes it difficult to focus on your own food, and often the flavor combinations are unpleasant in large crowds.

You get the occasional flare of a particularly strong emotion - anger, fear, and in rarer moments, joy. People typically think that the emotional aspect of your talent is strange, but you remind them that emotions are just chemical reactions. Every thought and feeling you’ve ever had is a spark or a chemical, nothing more. People don’t like when you say that, though. It makes them feel detached. Cold. Like their reality somehow changes the circumstances of their existence.

Your brain just picks up on other people’s chemical reactions so well, it replicates them to a T. When you were a toddler, you would babble out books your parents were reading out loud. They didn’t need to tell you bedtime stories, you just listened to their thoughts as they watched TV downstairs.

After lunch, once you’re back in your classroom, Chiaki announces that tomorrow the class will be eating lunch together, something special made by Hanamura in honor of there being a new student. You turn to Komaeda, smiling. “Aren’t you excited to be eating Hanamura’s cooking?”

You can feel his excitement already, but you want to hear it from him. His eyes turn to you, bright and warm, unlike his stony expression this morning. “I am! To eat an Ultimate’s cooking… I feel so unworthy! Something awful must be coming if I'm about to experience something so good.”

Your smile falters. What does that mean? You peel back the layers, an easier task now that he seems in better spirits, and find something you aren’t expecting. A hyper-awareness of his surroundings at all times, a fear of something always on the horizon, inching ever closer. You dig deeper and find a moral compass, skewed, but strong, made of reinforced steel. He has such a strange view of the world, such a passionate love for hope and for talent. It’s almost overwhelming, how much he loves these things. He might love them more than he hates you.

“Are you flirting again?” He asks, eyes narrowing, dragging you back out of his head. “You’re looking at me strangely.” A smile creeps back up to your face and you clasp your hands over your chest. “I just love seeing you so happy, is all.” You aren’t lying, technically.

The next morning, you watch him come into the classroom, already sitting at your desk. “Good morning, Komaeda. May I spend time with you after school today?”

“No.” He replies as he sits down. “Why do you keep asking me that? My answer won’t change.”

“Because I want to hear you talk to me.” You answer simply. He looks at you, confused, unable to understand. He thinks you’re lying to him, but he can’t figure out why. You tilt your head. “What? I’m telling the truth.”

“Why would you want to hear me talk?” He asks. You shrug. “Your voice is very nice, but also you’re very honest. You don’t like me, but at least you make no effort to lie to me about it. I would rather be honestly hated than be hated in secret.”

There it is again. The empathy. The understanding. It washes over you, so confusing and foreign that it makes warmth bloom on your cheeks. You feel your body tense, swallowing hard. He believes you. He turns away.

Lunch comes, and you don’t go to the tree. Instead, you all go to another room to eat some stew that Hanamura has prepared. You don’t like Hanamura. He thinks gross things all the time. Sometimes about you, and it makes you want to punch him in the face.

You end up next to Komaeda, much to your excitement, but after taking one look at you he asks to use the restroom and leaves. Your shoulders slump. Hopefully he’ll come back in time to try the food. The moment you take a bite, you’re almost willing to forget that. Not only is it the tastiest thing you’ve ever had, but with everyone else eating the exact same thing, your enjoyment is amplified.

Then it hits you.

At first, it just feels a little warm, like you need to take off your uniform blazer. Then it hits you like a goddamn freight train - all the blood in your body rushes between your legs and you go a little lightheaded, covering your mouth to avoid crying out. Your body trembles with the heat, and in this state you’re unable to stop the flood of thoughts from your classmates, all of them just as dirty and depraved as your own. This is another chemical reaction, one that’s amplified by a thousand with all these people around you.

“What on Earth happened while I was gone?”

Komaeda stands in the doorway, looking out at all of you with confusion. Nanami, who was already by the door, looks at him and softly explains that Saionji tainted the food with an aphrodisiac. Glancing between you and him, she swallows before continuing. “Could you… get the new kid out of here? I think they’re overwhelmed.”

This is far from the most overwhelming thing you’ve ever experienced, but it certainly is up there. You can feel Komaeda’s reluctance as he slides your arm over his shoulders and helps you to his feet. It’s hard to pick up on his thoughts specifically in the sea of desire around you, but as he tugs you from the room and down the empty hallway, back towards your classroom, you can see something else there. Curiosity, you think, but you can’t place it. Not in your current state, anyway.

Tugging you closer against him, Komaeda huffs. “Why did you have to be carried away? I mean, of course you can’t handle such things as well as the Ultimates, given you’re nothing more than a Reserve Course stude- ah!” 

You cut him off, shoving him into the wall and planting your arms on either side of his head, pinning your knee between his thighs, just below his groin. He stares at you with wide, murky green eyes, and you peer past them. Confusion, shock, annoyance, but behind it all the tiniest flicker of something more. A wanting. Not arousal, at least, not yet.

“Komaeda…” It comes out a whine, and you’re disgusted with yourself for being so weak, caving inwards like this, but as you press your crotch against his upper thigh you can’t find it in you to care. His breathing shakes as you press against him harder, chasing the friction, and before you know it you’re practically humping the poor boy in the middle of the hallway. If you were more clear-headed, you might be surprised that he hadn’t shoved you away yet.

“S-seriously?” He stutters out, watching you cling to the front of his jacket as you roll your hips against his leg. Glancing around the hallway, he grabs you suddenly, yanking you into a classroom and closing the door behind you. The sudden movement makes you stumble and fall to the ground, the mild pain from the impact making you whine. You look up at Komaeda, his back pressed against the door, face flushed red as he stares at your trembling form. You try to peek inside his head, but you aren’t out of range from your other classmates; his thoughts and theirs blend together until you can’t make out what’s him anymore.

“K-Komaeda…” You mumble, staring up at him. “Please… I need you… I know I’m not worth it, but…”

“You’re right.” He cuts you off, swallowing hard before he continues. “You’re not worth it.” A wave of heat rolls through you and you groan softly, watching his brow twitch, his expression shifting from shock and mild interest to something else, something you can’t make out, and you’re in no state to worm your way into his head. Not successfully, at least.

“How disgustingly presumptuous of you…” He steps towards you. “To annoy an Ultimate… even if my talent is nothing compared to the others, at least I have one.” His voice is low, laced with venom, and you shudder. “I know. I’m so annoying, huh?”

“You are. You’re the kind of annoying person who enjoys being talked down to like this.” Shoving you backwards so you’re sprawled on the floor, he kneels before you, crawling over your body with intent in his eyes. For the first time, you have no idea what he’s thinking, but god do you want to.

“It’s pathetic, really.” He mutters, watching you writhe beneath him, squeezing your thighs together and whimpering at every word that falls from his lips. “Did you let the Reserve Course students do this kind of thing to you?” You shake your head, eyes locked on his, and you swear you see the tiniest shudder roll through him. “So this strange obsession of yours… the attention… it’s all for me?”

Impatiently, you grab at his hips and yank him down until he’s flush against you, and you moan as something hard pokes you through his pants. A small noise rises from his throat, quickly stifled as he presses his lips together. Swallowing thickly, he breaks out into laughter. “My, my, who do you think you are? Do you seriously think I’m going to- ah!” He’s cut off as you lift your hips, grinding hard against him, hands clawing desperately at his uniform jacket. His tie is loose, top button of shirt undone, exposing his collarbone. You bury your face in the fabric of his shirt in shame, but can’t stop the movement of your hips against his. Then, to your surprise, he reciprocates, grinding down against you and groaning, low in his chest.

“Y-you… haha… you’re so desperate for an Ultimate’s touch…” He moans softly as his hips roll into yours, slotting together like puzzle pieces. “I… suppose… I can indulge you.” He pants softly, the hardness in his pants becoming more and more prevalent the longer this went on. He bit his lip, moaning and groaning as the growing heat between your bodies became nearly unbearable. You clung to his jacket - with this proximity, with the intimacy of what you were doing, you could hear his thoughts, and my were they dirty. And they were all about you.

He wanted to do more. He wanted to bite down on your shoulder and watch you squirm. He wanted to see how far he could push you before you begged him to fuck you on the classroom floor.

He wanted you.

Those thoughts, so unlike him, are what push you over the edge, gasping and moaning and crying out as the spring in your lower belly snaps. You arch your back as you tremble beneath him, no doubt making a mess of your underwear. For the first time in a long time, your mind is completely void of any thoughts, no matter who they belonged to. But before long, the emptiness is filled with his racing mind again.

‘Did they just cum? Did I make them cum? I didn’t think I could do that. How did I do that? I’m still hard… damn, it’s kind of uncomfortable…’

You want to keep going, but your head swims, and a moment later your vision fades to black.

You come to who knows how much later, dragging your eyes open to find Chiaki hovering over you, a worried look on her face. “Hey. You’re in the nurse’s office. Are you alright?”

“Huh?” You blink, confused and groggy, until vague memories of what happened begin flooding back. You feel your face beginning to heat up as you swallow hard. “What… happened?”

“The aphrodisiac was at a way higher dose than it should’ve been taking it normally.” She explains, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “So a lot of people ended up passing out. I was worried for you, since you would feel the effects more intensely…” She trails off, looking away, but in the echoes of her brain you hear what she’s leaving out and shoot straight up in the bed.

“You told everyone?!” You nearly shriek, gripping the blanket tightly. She waves her hands around frantically. “Well, yeah, but I had no choice! I couldn’t explain why you were more at risk than anyone else without letting it slip. I’m really sorry.”

Groaning, you fall back against the pillow, covering your face with your hands. “Everyone’s gonna hate me now… they’ll all think I’m a freak.”

“That’s not true.” Chiaki pouts. “If they do, I’ll chew them out for it. You don’t deserve it.”

Whining, you roll onto your side. “Just leave me alone. I wanna go back to sleep. Maybe I can forget this ever happened.”

Reluctantly, Chiaki leaves the room, muttering apologies. You know she’s right, that she’s telling you the truth, but that doesn’t mean this sucks any less.

You hear the door open again, and just as you’re about to tell Chiaki to leave you be for a bit, you’re interrupted by a thought.

‘Can you hear me?’

Removing your hands from your face, you look over, confused. “Komaeda?”

He says nothing, staring at you with wide, round eyes. You feel his anxiety, his self-hatred, his disgust at his actions. The thought comes again. ‘Can you hear me?’

“Yeah, I can hear you.” You mumble, peeling back the layers behind his eyes. You find shame, embarrassment, a sense of guilt so strong it threatens to swallow you whole. You’re so enraptured by these feelings that you barely register him coming into the room, closing the door behind him before shuffling nervously over to your bedside.

“I assume…” He says softly. “... You know my intentions in coming here?”

“You’re here to apologize.” You reply. “But I don’t understand why.”

“Wha- you-” He stumbles over his words, his brain damn near short-circuiting. “I-I was awful towards you! I thought such awful, disgusting things about you, I was rude and I was cruel…”

“Komaeda.” You look at him stoically. “There are a lot of reasons people lie.”

“Huh?” He blinks. Confusion. ‘Where are they going with this?’

“Some people lie to avoid confrontation. Others lie to achieve their goals.” You continue. “We tend to think of lying as something always done intentionally, with a goal to deceive the other person into saying or doing something we want. But we tell lies every day. We hide behind them because they are comfortable.”

“I’m… not following.” He says, and you hold up a hand. “I’m getting there. We call these tiny lies ‘white lies’ as if they are somehow less of an issue than any other lie - as if they are harmless. When someone asks you how your day was, and you say ‘good’ on impulse, you could be lying. But that lie is seen as tiny, insignificant. Until you’re in tears later from all the stress, and nobody can figure out why. After all, you said you had a good day.”

Swinging your legs off the bed, you stand, wobbly but determined to get your point across. “I hate those lies, Komaeda. They’re insidious, they worm their way into your daily habits until they’ve taken complete control over your life. I kept my Ultimate under wraps because when you can peer into someone’s head, those lies no longer work. They lose all value. And when so much of your personality hinges on them, you are left vulnerable. People don’t like that, Komaeda.”

“S-so…” He shrinks, still confused. “What does this have to do with me apologizing?”

“You have never lied to me, Komaeda. Not once.” Your heart starts racing at the thought, and you clasp your hands over it, fighting the trembling in your fingertips. “You hated me, but you made no effort to disguise your hatred under a veil of politeness. You let me feel the brunt of your hatred, you let me soak in it, wallowing in it like a nasty little pig.” You aren’t sure when it happens, but he stumbles backwards into the bed behind him, leaving you standing over him, hands shaking as you bite back your laughter.

“Your honesty… it fills me with hope, Komaeda.” You giggle. “Hope that there are people out there who hate dishonesty as much as I do. Hope that there are more truthful people out there, like you.”

His eyes blow wide open, shock and realization and absolute joy. Bordering on ecstasy. You stare down at his trembling form and he stares up at you, and you dig deeper, deeper into him, layer after layer of him unfolding into you, like turning the pages of a novel you can’t tear your eyes away from.

“You’re so lovely.” You breathe. “Please don’t apologize for it.”

He stares, dumbfounded, mind reeling as he tries to take in everything you’ve just said. His mouth hangs open, his tongue dry. He wets his lips before he speaks.

“Alright.” He says. “I’m not sorry.”

#danganronpa #sdr2 #nagito komaeda #nagito komaeda x reader #writing #sdr2 nagito #smut

[pancakes4two]

that summer feelin’ | three

preview: Tossing a tube of toothpaste to you, Harry leans his arm against the corner of the bathroom where the sink meets the wall.

“So, when was your last relationship?” He asks, twisting his hair up and using a small black clip to hold his curls in place.

“We’ve moved on to the hard-hitting questions?” You mumble around a mouthful of toothpaste, while Harry rubs foam cleanser into his face.

“Of course. Don’t wanna listen to you ramble on about your childhood crush on Daniel Radcliffe any longer,” He retorts, turning on the tap and gently washing the suds off of his skin.

“Try not to get too jealous,” you jab, spitting your toothpaste into the sink next to him and wiping off the side of your mouth. “Can’t help it if I have a thing for Harrys.”

A/N: apologies for how long it took me to post this, been pretty busy lately :( in other news, i’m starting to write a new series that’s very different from this one so if you’re curious please check out the preview post here!

PREVIOUS PART | MY OTHER BLURBS/FICS | SEND ME A REQUEST

chapter 3 - the very first night

soundtrack: i know a place - MUNA

harry’s pov:

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You saw a sketchy ad online for a free vacation and $50,000, and you actually answered it?” Harry asks you incredulously. The two of you were currently discussing how you wound up on Love Island, after Harry had realized he told you his origin story on your date but had yet to have heard yours.

“That’s what I said.” You reply, looking up to see that the outside of the villa was mostly empty. The other islanders must have gone inside to get ready for bed, leaving you and Harry alone in the quiet night for a bit.

“How did you not know it was for Love Island?” Harry questions, looking quite amused. He shifts his body so that he’s fully facing you and tucks his knees in towards himself, looking positively cozy.

“Listen, I studied English in school, and considered adding law for a while too. I’ll give you a wild guess as to whether or not I had time to watch shitty reality TV.” You laugh, staring up at the dark sky. For some reason, you and the rest of the islanders were not allowed to know the time while in the villa. There were no clocks to be found anywhere, and your phones never displayed the time either. It’s weird: you somehow simultaneously feel like so much time and so little time has passed since your date with Harry earlier today.

“I wanted to do law after my GCSEs!”

“Did you actually?”

“Well, law…” Harry starts, “and sociology, and business, and lots of other things.”

“Bit indecisive, aren’t we?” You poke at him, running a hand up and down your arm as a cool breeze fluttered by.

“Well, decisive only with the things that matter most,” Harry says while attempting a wink, “you cold? Maybe we should head inside?”

“Sounds good,” you hum in agreement. The two of you head back towards the inside of the villa, still chatting mindlessly about stupid things like what your go-to hang out spots were in primary school and that one time you and your best friend both tried to surprise each other with a visit during uni, and ended up missing each other. The stories flow endlessly between the two of you, and you can barely remember a time where you actually wanted to speak to another human being this much. While you consider yourself to be a social person, your social battery does tend to run out fairly quickly, so it’s rare that you find enough energy to keep a conversation for this long.

Maybe it’s just the adrenaline from being dropped into the villa so suddenly, or the fact that everyone around you seems to be the textbook definition of an extrovert—definitely not because there’s something special about Harry. That’s one thing you would never admit to yourself so early on.

You’re pleasantly surprised to see that the bathroom is empty when you and Harry walk in. Earlier today, he’d been complaining about how difficult it was to find a time where there weren’t four people trying to share two sinks and a single mirror. That’s the thing about talking to Harry: it becomes so easy for the two of you to lose track of time. Evidently, the other islanders have long since finished their nighttime routines and were gossiping in bed while the two of you desperately try to catch up before lights-out.

Tossing a tube of toothpaste to you, Harry leans his arm against the corner of the bathroom where the sink meets the wall.

“So, when was your last relationship?” He asks, twisting his hair up and using a small black clip to hold his curls in place.

“We’ve moved on to the hard-hitting questions?” You mumble around a mouthful of toothpaste, while Harry rubs foam cleanser into his face.

“Of course. Don’t wanna listen to you ramble on about your childhood crush on Daniel Radcliffe any longer,” He retorts, turning on the tap and gently washing the suds off of his skin.

“Try not to get too jealous,” you jab, spitting your toothpaste into the sink next to him and wiping off the side of your mouth. “Can’t help it if I have a thing for Harrys.”

Harry looks amused for a moment, but then he pauses and points an accusing finger at you. “Don’t try and avoid my question, woman!”

“I was doing nothing of the sort!” You gasp, swatting his finger away. “Fine. My last relationship ended during my second year at uni. I was dating a guy I met at college long-distance, but he turned out to be a fucking prick.”

“Can I ask why?” Harry interjects sincerely. He picks up a pink-colored toothbrush and lets it dangle from his mouth as he twists open the cap on his toothpaste.

“He was basically mugging me off the entire time we dated,” you shrug, watching Harry squeeze toothpaste onto the bristles. “Hooking up with girls and stuff to get the full uni experience. Telling our friends we had an open relationship because the distance was too much of a strain. You know, general muggy behavior.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, and the thing is, he looks so genuinely sorry that you wonder why the hell this guy looks like he’s about to apologize for all the things your ex did to you.

“What’re you sorry for?” You laugh, the two of you heading for the bedroom.

“You don’t deserve that,” Harry says simply. He takes off the hoodie he was wearing and hands it to you, and your mind flashes back to earlier, when the two of you were sitting outside and his eyes followed your hands as you ran them up and down the goosebumps on your arms.

“Here. Figured you get cold easily. Our bed is right next to the AC, unfortunately, so you’re probably going to need that.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, caught off-guard by his perceptiveness. You pull the hoodie over your head and breathe in his scent, all clean and reminiscent of a day spent soaking in the sun. When the two of you finally arrive at your bed, you’re met with a chorus of cheers from the rest of the islanders. Harry calms them down with a flick of his hand and turns to you in bed, making sure he isn’t crossing any boundaries by touching you when you haven’t given him permission to.

“Is this okay?” He asks, softly carding his fingers through your hair. The lights start to turn off then, but you catch a glimpse of the sage green in his eyes right before they fully flickered into darkness.

“Yeah,” you smile. You know he can’t see it, but you hope he hears it in your voice. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” Harry replies.

You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing, the motion of his hands in your hair slowing as he gradually drifts into subconsciousness. Strangely, his smile and the deep rasp of his voice make their way into your dreams.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec

[sleekervae]

Okay, this might be long...

hi guys. so... obviously a lot has gone down in the past 48 hours. I didn't want to make opinions/assumptions at first because I wanted to see what more information would come up. As sad and disappointing as this whole drama with palaye is, let's please, please, please remember to be respectful of one another on the internet. Let's not bully one another about opinions and let's also not get too sucked into things that may or may not be our business.

I as a writer portray my subjects the way that I interpret them and their personalities to the best of my abilities, but I don't know any of the members of palaye or what they're like irl. From the people I've talked with who have met them, they've had really positive experiences so this does go both ways. I'll just reiterate again: let's not be mean to each other, please? I'm also not saying let's sweep this under the rug bc some of the behaviour being exposed is def not okay from a group that some people look up to. They're also human, and humans can be shitty. The point, however, is (hopefully) we learn from that behaviour and (again, hopefully) not repeat it. And in some cases, in order to not repeat it, people need to be called out.

As for Emerson, needless to say I'm disappointed and I'm also really sad for Shy. I'm of the belief (currently) that Emerson isn't a groomer; I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt. What there's no doubt about is that cheating is cheating no matter how you slice it. We watched it happen publicly about three or four times this past year.

That being said -- and this is just me taking the high road -- but please don't share the nudes around on the internet. Just don't do it, it's gross. It certainly wasn't okay when it happened to Percy White, and it's still not okay. And yes, I know there's a difference between what's happening with Emerson and what happened with Percy, but still; there's a fine line to walk here.

The internet has a really interesting effect of pouring more and more gasoline on the fire, no matter whether the context is positive or negative. I don't agree with how the guys handled it at first with twitter (but I'm also of the opinion that twitter is just an on-fire garbage can that needs to be taken out) and they should've handled this privately. But again, let's be respectful to one another. Whether some of us like it or not, palaye are going to forge ahead. For the fan drama, I hope the guys get a wake up call to smarten up. As for Emerson's drama, it's shitty I know but cheating doesn't necessarily constitute getting thrown out of a band. It happened with the Arctic Monkeys and they're still forging ahead, too.

I'm going to be taking a little break from The Neighbour (I know it sounds dumb coming from me 'cause I take month long breaks in between chapters), but I'm not going away forever. Palaye Royale has still played a major part in my life the past four years and has gotten me through a lot of trauma. I'll still be posting other content, and if anyone every wants to reach out and chat you're more than welcome to!

If you made it through this whole thing, than you deserve a cookie! I'm not going to promise that everything is going to be okay, but please remember to be kind to yourselves and one another. :)

Edit-

Also to add; I've read a lot of people complaining about Palaye's merch being delayed, not delivered, no replies to emails, etc. I've experienced trouble with it too and I don't think that Austin guy they put in charge is very organized. Maybe he's great at setting up merch tables but running an online store and business is another can of worms. Either he gets his shit together or they should put somebody else in charge of the online stuff.

#palaye royale #remington leith #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #ona's opinions

[localcryptideli]

I know there is a lot of "oooh [condition] isn't that bad look I can do everything others can! We are just like every neurotypical/abled person!" around and that a lot of it is to get people without [condition] to treat us normally and give us access to things, but can we please shut up about it when someone with said condition is venting about how symptoms make something nearly impossible for them and believe them? Like not everything comes with the same severity or even set of symptoms, and it's kinda rude to assume that just because YOU aren't struggling with something others are just being lazy if they fail with it.

My ADHD is hard to live with. It's not an easy peasy breezy condition. It's not quirky. I frankly kinda hate it. I cannot "learn things quick and easy" like someone online told me "adhd people usually can" when I vented about being frustrated with being an unsafe driver because of my inability to retain kinaesthetic learnings and my inability to memorize things and focus on multiple tasks.

I forget entire events and days, I forget saying things over and over and over. I have to guide mhself through brushing my teeth every day and consciously remind myself of it because it never became second nature no matter the amount of practice. I struggle with learning new vocabulary. My skill degradation is higher than average. My memory doesn't seem to store things in long term memory most of the time.

I practiced the violin religiously for over a decade and I did not improve past beginners' level despite teachers trying all different methods with me and me practicing every day for more than an hour for years.

it's frustrating, and it is the kind of adhd that needs medication for me to operate in a lot of adult contexts, including driving (especially in europe where manual cars are the majority). I cannot get medicated cause I need to get diagnosed by someone in the country where I live first because each country requires that due to different disgnostic criteria and medication regulations. Getting a psychiatrist here is nigh impossible. My spouse has been looking for three years now. So I stay unmedicated and it does impair my life in more than one aspect.

Including driving.

There is not going to be a point soon where it's gonna become "second nature" because things very rarely become second nature to me due to the way my shitty memory works. Things can have different severity in different people, and conditions like adhd can manifest with different symptoms with different people.

Stop assuming that just because you aren't struggling, then others aren't trying hard enough. It's rude, and frankly pretty ableist.

#i need to find a tag for personal updates #cw: ableism

[burningchandelier]

Tag people you want to get to know better:

Tagging: YOU because I genuinely want you to do this (please) Additionally and specifically tagging @crippledanarchy @a-suspicious-lack-of-dragons @highendphasers @revengeromance @angelofmusings @yesand87 @static-starfish

@bewitchedbaddie tagged me to do this, which is so cool. I love them.

Relationship status: so married it's not even funny

Favorite color: dark, dark aubergine purple

Favorite food: starchy carbs-- rice, pasta, potatoes, bread, I don't care just put lots of spices on it and serve it hot

Song stuck in your head: Boy Division

Last thing you googled: "I don't really want to do the work today" from Firebringer

Time: 11ish pm

Dream trip: Visiting my closest cousin and extended family in Ireland (and getting my mom back together with her long-lost love who lives there -- in a castle, no less!)

Last book you read: re-read This is How by Augusten Burroughs, which didn't age fantastically, but I love his writing so much

Last book you enjoyed reading: I enjoy everything I read

Last book you hated reading: If I hate a book I'm reading, I give it another 30 pages and then if I still hate it, I quit. Life is too short for shitty books.

Bonus!

Favorite to cook/bake: Baked brie (with apples and honey)

Favorite craft to do in your free time: I love cross-stitch and embroidery. The minute this move is over, I am breaking all that shit back out. I also like knitting and it takes a little less concentration, which is nice.

Most niche dislike: Online, it feels like a pretty general dislike, but I think if I said "A/B/O squicks me out" in an irl setting, I would probably get some weird looks. (All the love to people who like it, it's just not for me).

Opinion on circus(es): Animal exploitation and historic exploitation of disabled folk really bums me out. However, the proud tradition of inclusive spaces for society's outcasts as traveling performers makes me feel seen and loved. So there's a lot going on there.

Do you have a sense of direction: I can't say that it is fantastic, but I can figure out where I am and where I need to go, and that's what matters.

#tag game #revenge of the myspace survey

[nightyelean]

FUCK: YES.

MOON (seemingly, probably, hopefully) FALLS FIRST

only the most dearest gratitude from your one and only charming anon, for gracing us with the literacy perfection that is the last few chapters.

On another note, (something i unfortunately forgot to mention in my previous comments towards your fic) as a raging demisexual, mere words cannot describe just how much the daycare attendant and minor side characters' lovely dynamic gives me life and a reason to refresh AO3 on a 4-5 hour basis (and under reluctant admission, quite obsessively so). the well developing friendships, lack of expressed emotional and physical attraction on borh ends towards individuals until further/stronger trust and friendship is established, generally just The Skrunklies being their goofy, complicated and mentally traumatized selves with eachother (eventually healing through their relationships and L word towards one another respectively maybe 👀),,, all the good stuff. not to mention the delicious, heart wrentching ANGST

You're a legend, truly

That's not to say anything else isn't just as valid. this twists my gut in the best way in particular personally is all. while other takes on relationships are perfect for others equally as much as yours is to my preferences, I don't happen to see the trope presented currently in your fic nearly as much in fandoms of all kindq. my fellow APHBC enthusiasts can have the ultimate, most grand slow burn as a treat I suppose (courtesy of you, ever so providing)

Additionally, screw you (affectionate). I recently picked up my loyal sophmore-age-old Kirkland grade drawing pencil and started up on sketching fan scribbles after years of it sitting in all its latent, pathetic glory in my cheap shitty art-designated notebook originally bought for chemistry class. my bröther in christ, I've literally spent hours dedicated to just one piece being my usual perfectionist (albeit, still amazing) self. every minor character, only relevant to the plot in order to drive the main leads to their evental destination in eachothers loving embrace, has their flaws. not to brag or anything ofc

TL:DR it'll probably be a hot minute till I aquire the mental fortitude strong enough to actually send it all to this blog

Anyways, this is getting much too long and I have a practice exam tomorrow to oh so eagerly look forward to. Come hither agony of the mental state and back pains for the next few days due to hunching over an uncomfortable desk for acopious amount of time. No need to overstay my welcome, though I'm sure my presence in itself is always a honor to all those graced with it

Stay safe and make sure to not strain yourself over the fic, or anything else in life really. don't let writing become a chore instead of an output for sun and moon induced passion(they jusg have that natural effect on people). I've seen too many part time aamazing writers-part time good people such as yourself fall into that state of mind, often due to mistreatment by certain readers who forget their place as mere observers to the masterpiece that is your works. there is no pressure to do this for anyone other than yourself, dear author. I also understand if you maybe also feel happy when others get comfort or enjoyment out of your works, but please don't let that be your only driving factor. true fans care about your wellbeing over frequent updates and such. I'm rambling again (please don't take this as trying to lecture you either. tell me to back off if that is how it is perceived, I don't know how to properly articulate my thoughts on this matter is all)

Again, no need to respond or read this long ass essay of an anonymous ask. take care in the real world and online. eat well, sleep well, live well; you know the drill :)

You

YOU

AaaaAA YOU’RE YOURE GONNA MAKE ME CRY. Dude IN THE MOST GENDER NEUTRAL WAY AAA U AND UR LONG ANON ASK.

First of all, hello the charming anon, as always like you said its a honor to have you here. you’re always welcome in my asks, just like everybody else.

ALSO. Ppl going silly because Moon is going to fall first— It makes me happy. I dont know how it happened but it happened, Moon might indeed be the first one👀 silly silly.

AND MY RAGING DEMISEXUAL FELLOW SAME SAME ME TOO. WELCOME. Honestly i sometimes wonder if i goofed this and wish that i wrote it better bcuz me also love this troupe. Me also want more. I want some real slowburn of friends to lovers kinda stuff. Pain.

AND AND AND IF YOU Y O U DREW SOMETHING YOU BETTER SEND ME. I WILL I WILL HOLD IT OH SO GENTLY LIKE. Even if its just Cloud being a stickman i want it. Please. *grabby hands* give give give give give give give gi

You never overstay ur welcome, friend! Please. I love,,, i love reading goofy long stuff. I am just like you fr, just writing whatever goes through my mind without any organization. I wish you lots of luck in your exam! Very yucks. You got it though🏃🏃 Seriously thank you for all your sweet words, I will indeed try to not push myself. Honestly like this is such a hyperfixation for me rn it makes me wanna post everyday, i need to physically hold myself to not to. Because I know if i do that one day i will be out of chapters ehdje😭 ANYWAYS AAA. Honestly I have no idea how this much ppl liked my silly stuff but!!! I appreciate it!! A LOT. I am seriously nothing but a silly clown, and i honk my red nose to you in an affectionate way. Please know that you can always come here to ramble! I am so ready to listen and chat, its funky. Do tell me if your exam goes good too! Have a nice day or night, you are such a lovely person. Sending Moon and Sun love to you, also me aka Nighty love. <3

#anon #ask #you get ur own tag bcuz i say so #charming anon #ily #ure great #fr made me kick my feet and twirl my hair and gigle #sending so many hugs!!

[rekikiri]

okay long vent skip this if you don’t want the negativityyy you are warned now. im not looking for negative discourse, I just am frustrated. this is also kinda just word vomit so it may not make total sense or be vague but 🤷‍♀️

~~~

why do people feel so compelled to shit on other people’s ships? especially publicly.

like, if you dislike a ship and want to shit talk them, please do it in the DMs. meet people who either 1) don’t care you want to talk about them 2) agree with you.

I really hate seeing people spreading hate about a ship especially in a way that you’ll frequently see it when you search for that ship.

if you think a ship is genuinely toxic (ie, adult/minor), I think that can be fine. for example, langa/adam. I think discussing it is fine as long as your arguments are ABOUT the ship and not targeted hate to a person.

but for the love of god why does it matter to you what other people like? and why do you feel compelled to try to force others to like your ship over theirs?

AOT SPOILERS SKIP TO THE EMOJI 🌻 IF YOU CARE TO CONTINUE

i’ve been seeing this a bit with levihan vs eruri and honestly? I love both. idc I love both. I saw some people arguing, “if erwin were still alive he’d not care as much about hange” and that ? is so shitty ? that’s totally invalidating the friendship they’ve had throughout the entire series. you can think he’d favor erwin, idc, but why must you shit on the potential platonic relationship between characters to further the narrative of them being a couple?

and even if that WERE the case, why must you insist on him essentially only being close to hange because he lost someone else? people can move on and meet other people/strengthen bonds between others after losing someone else, does that invalidate the love he’d have for them? if someone irl lost a partner they cared deeply for, is the next person they get with suddenly not able to be as important to them? are they always going to be “second rate”? NO.

after hange’s death, is levi supposed to just see everyone he’s friends with as being replacements for erwin and hange? no. that’s ridiculous. new people are just that, new relationships. they’re not replacements to the ones you lost. that’s not how it works.

🌻🌻🌻

I can’t think of many that fit that dynamic right now but other scenarios I see a lot.

bakudeku vs kiribaku. im not a bakudeku shipper, but guess what? you can like it! I don’t care as long as you’re not trying to force others to change their mind or hating shippers of other pairings (using kiribaku because that’s what I interact most with).

I love the platonic relationship developing between bakugo and deku. I love it! I love fics that include them being close, basically developing a sibling like relationship. and you can write your ships however you want in fanfic, but why do so many people insist on undermining the development they had to push the kiribaku (or vice versa).

close friendships exist and idk why so many people hate on deku to push kiribaku, or try to hate on kirishima for being best friends with bakugou. you can have a best friend and a partner (or even two best friends! it’s possible!)

I thankfully don’t see that much because I surround my online presence with people who are respectful but holy shit why is hating on other characters friendships/characters themselves so common? just like your ships and keep the negativity to yourself and your friends. why is that so hard?

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Dirty Little Secrets, Deception, and The Peace

DO NOT REBLOG THIS PLEASE

I’m not a person who calls other people out. I don’t like confrontation. I don’t like animosity. I don’t particularly even care for debate. I’ve spent the past 7 years not personally saying out loud or even typing in a public way the name of the person essentially driving the American news cycle because I believe words matter and they have power, and I don’t like giving shitheads more power by talking about them. I prefer promoting what I love (which would be the opposite of shitheads). I’ve tried with every word I’ve written and shared in a public way to do that…to promote what I love…to stay positive and optimistic and hopeful. But I also want to be honest. I’ve always been honest here. Not personally identifying, but still honest. And I want to be connected to other honest people.

Honesty is very important to me. In fact, of all the shit I hate in life, deception is probably the thing that triggers me the most. Anxiety. Depression. Self-judgment about not being a human lie detector that’s 100% accurate. ANGER. I’m actually not a person who is quick to anger. Which is a goddam miracle considering the place I came from and the family I grew up in. But boy does deception trip that wire. I cannot stand being lied to. Even white lies meant to placate me or protect my feelings rub me the wrong way and make me wary to trust people. So people who have intentionally deceived me or someone I care about (or all of us) with selfish and likely harmful motives just SUPER PISS ME OFF. I hate doing this. It makes me feel icky; like I’m upsetting The Peace. That’s not something I enjoy doing (I know some people do enjoy doing that…but that ain’t even close to me). I LIKE keeping The Peace. But sometimes that means covering up for shitty people, or it means acting like something shitty isn’t going down like the proverbial ostrich with its head in the sand. So I’m going to get really honest here about some things that have blown up recently here, and about times in my personal life where I’ve been duped with deception and how those people fooled me. This post is going to be long, so if you want to jump off here...

Before I met J, when I was a teenager and young adult (I met J when I was 25; he was 31…so yeah, a bit older than me, but not outrageously older than me), I dated several…SEVERAL…young men who wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I’m not talking the details of our private time together, or the intimate things we shared about ourselves. I mean, ‘Don’t tell anyone we’re dating/seeing each other/together.’ I knew all these guys in person, had information about their school performances, jobs, hobbies…sometimes for years ahead of my romantic association with them. All these guys shared mutual friends with me, so I afforded them a wide swath of benefit of the doubt even though the secrecy or just their desire for the secrecy made me feel like absolute shit. Don’t get me wrong; I’m a super private person. I ran a D/s blog and rarely ever talked about kink. I get embarrassed talking to J about sex still and we’re middle aged married parents. I understand wanting to protect privacy and not wanting The Riffraff to interfere in your relationship if you’re in a crowd, particularly an anonymous one online. Shit, I even published my fictional work for sale using a pen name. I get it. But it still felt off to me; the request for total secrecy. My shit was all way way way pre-social media. I wasn’t looking for Status Update: In a Relationship with Jennifer. I just wanted to like…tell my best friend A that I was going to a movie with X this weekend if he called me on the phone to ask what I was doing this weekend. It felt to me at the time like these guys were ashamed of me (and I’m sure there was at least some truth to that), but now in retrospect I’m seeing they were probably sizing me up for some kind of victimhood beyond just making me feel bad about myself and unworthy. If no one knows you’re together, no one will believe you when you say that person hurt you in a ‘partner’ sort of way. They can’t have cheated on you if no one knows you were together. She can’t have threatened to kill herself if you break up if no one knows you were together. He can’t have violated you physically or been stalking you after a breakup if no one knows you were together. The guys who did this to me never did any of that to me (at least they didn’t cheat that I know of), but it’s probably because they decided since I’m a quiet person who liked keeping The Peace, that maybe I’d actually be believed if I told someone they hurt me, even with their deception skills.

And then in 2016, I lost a lot of friends due to (simplifying shit big time here) ‘political differences,’ but all of this friend loss was basically driven by one dude. I’d known him since high school. One of my best friends was also one of his best friends. His older sister took Sociology with me in college. His younger brother was gay. He came from a nice family and we shared a lot of mutual friends and then he suffered a great tragedy in his life, which sparked a lot of sympathy and empathy from both myself and J. He was really sad (of course), and having a rough time coping, so we helped him do a lot. Invited him to family dinners, even extended family gatherings with us. We found him a job when he was unemployed. J fixed broken things on his car and at his home for him. We supported and encouraged him as he looked for a new relationship and remarried after the tragedy and divorce. He spent a lot of time with us…in our home…sharing meals. We trusted him with our son. He was a pretty charismatic, likable and reasonably popular guy when he wasn’t depressed (and not to toot our own horn here, but I’d like to believe J and I were a part of improving his life at the time for him to get back to ‘charismatic, likable, and popular’…) But when I (privately…because I’m not normally a public call out, confrontational person, because I like keeping The Peace) asked him about some disturbing shit he’d posted on social media (sexist, racist, homophobic…), he blocked me and stopped all contact with us in early 2016. And then he gave my email address and cell phone number to a bunch of solicitors and political campaigns, knowing it would trigger major anxiety for me to have to field a bunch of texts, emails, and phone calls from strangers trying to sell me things I didn’t want. J and I both knew this man personally for YEARS…we knew his family and friends (they were our friends too…we thought). But when we (again, privately) shared what had happened with us with mutual friends, they all sided with him. There’s a person who read at J’s and my wedding that we haven’t spoken to in 6 years because they chose this man over J and me. That still hurts. 

And now we’re at here on tumblr, over the past couple weeks. Reality is, I’m guilty of keeping the Peace here, and I regret that, which is why I’m writing this long ass post now. But I also want to be honest, particularly about me and my feelings and actions, for the few people who I care about their opinions of me, and I care about having clarity of where I stand and why I did or didn’t do things. To start out, I felt disappointed and a bit betrayed by one person. Again, like the other big instances in my life when someone hurt me with deception, I gave this person a lot of latitude to minor-league fuck up without any consequence because other people I like liked him. Other people I trust trusted him. He had a close friendship with at least one woman that didn’t involve sexual attraction in any way that he publicly lauded, and that’s a known weakness soft spot for me because of my own best friend of 30 years (aside: my own best friend of 30 years is a guy who’s always been honest with me; even about shit that covering it up would have protected my opinion of him…A ain’t perfect, and he’s fucked up big a couple times, but he’s always owned it, and he has always tried to atone for it the best way he could, which sometimes meant letting people think he was the villain…he IS the villain in some stories…but I still think he’s a good man because he doesn’t use deception to skew people’s view of his mistakes). I read his Asks, and I thought I saw Good Man Potential in a lot of the answers, and sometimes I clarified or even opposed what he said, and at least with me, he always showed grace when I did that. I feel shitty now that even though his following was a lot lot lot larger than mine, and is likely a significant reason mine was as large as it was, that I probably led at least one person to him that otherwise wouldn’t have been there, because I tagged onto his asks. And I feel shitty because the truth is, I hadn’t followed this guy myself for several years, even though I still occasionally reblogged an ask if one of my (trusted, women) friends showed it to me first. I stopped following him because his tone, in my perception, shifted. Harsher. More self-centered. More fear-mongering instead of comforting and helpful. I mean, there’s self confidence and tough love and realism, but there are lines when all of those things can shift from healthy to harmful, and for me, he got there a while ago. But I didn’t say anything. Because I know I have a short line. And I’m not always right. But I should have said something, at least privately to some people who are more comfortable being The Voice. My short line was right this time. Did this guy do anything illegal? No. Could he be taken to court for anything he did? Almost certainly not. But did he act like a shifty, cagey, selfish asshole? Yeah. He purposefully misled people about how many women he was involved with at a time, and how he was involved with women, and intentionally curated an image of a trusted elder figure in order to keep doing it. He betrayed the confidence of at least one person in a serious way; a way so serious I’d equate it with consent violation, and he was a person who consistently and boldly preached that ‘consent is sacrosanct.’ Apparently, he only really believed that when it came to actual physical sex, and who knows...maybe not then either.

I’m sorry to anyone who got hurt because before I knew better, I steered you into a bad place. I should have said something when I felt it. A long time ago.

And then the situation kept expanding to include more and more people who weren’t what they claimed to be. One of these people in particular I considered a good friend. Until she turned on me. For the same reasons so many other ‘friends’ have turned on me. I showed a lot of care and support and availability to her. I tried to express clearly in the moment what her friendship and helpful actions did for me, even when those actions were just routine, ‘ordinary’ things like watching the same TV show together, or serendipitous, like sparking a memory or a feeling from a random conversation that unlocked my long term writer’s block. But as soon as I expressed a boundary or a question...’Are you sure you want to say/do this?’ ‘I can’t do what you’re asking of me because of other responsibilities and priorities I have...’ ‘This is hurting me and I have to stop...’ I tried to engage her in anything positive we had been doing together for the past year. Let’s watch a show together...let’s read a story together...let’s talk about this Life Thing for a while. I asked her to check on her own well-being...are you eating enough? Have you slept? Maybe you should take a break from this and listen to some music and cuddle your pet… She ignored all of this. Which was concerning and it hurt a bit, but others who did the same were met with accusations of gaslighting and condescension so she was still affording me some sort of special status I never asked for and was in itself making me uncomfortable at that point. My final writing piece on my old tumblr blog that had a lot of followers (a lot to me at least; not even a tenth as many as these people who made me feel so low and shitty claimed to have) was devoted to supporting her and lauding her goodness and all the good she’d done for me over the previous year. She ASKED me, in a not-exactly-private way to write that piece for her as a show of support. And I did. And I felt rushed and pressured about it. But I still did it. And gave her editorial approval over it before I posted it. At the time, even though I was already extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation, I meant what I wrote in it. And then I left. Which I told her ahead of time I was going to do. I actually told her I’d just send her the piece and she could post it if she wanted to, but she told me I had to post it or it ‘wouldn’t have the impact I wanted.’ But I didn’t want any impact. I just wanted to go. I’d been thinking of leaving since summer of 2021 because things just felt ‘off’ all over. Most of the contacts I’d come to tumblr for in the first place were gone. This drama pushed me over the edge. I still posted it myself and waited for a reblog another blogger graciously gave me so I could delete asap anyway. I’m not sure she ever actually interacted with the piece she asked me to write and post for her after I’d done it. She never mentioned it again. Instead, she attacked previous allies and even people who were victimized by the situation she originally claimed to be supporting, like anything I said or did didn’t matter at all. Like anything else in my life didn’t matter at all. Like I didn’t matter at all. She asked me to create a new blog ‘just to follow mine and see all the people that love me because I know you run on that.’ I do ‘run on that,’ when ‘that’ is real love and friendship unfolding, not blind and ignorant sycophantic worship. I told her no. I wasn’t going to do that. I didn’t want to engage in any of it anymore; it was ugly and felt bad and was hurting me; I had other, more important concerns. MY SON was struggling at the same time. I didn’t have time to devote to doing what she wanted. I got met with instant and extreme cruelty and hostility. I even knew it was coming, because I’d seen her turn previously on others who questioned her or expressed boundaries, hours to days before. I felt I was next. I felt like she was asking me to choose between her friendship and my son’s mental health and my own mental health and my real life family responsibilities and other friendships by way of demanding unquestioning and instant compliance with every demand. I felt like she expected to be my top or perhaps only priority, and anything less than that was betrayal. She called me a martyr for talking about my feelings of anxiety and insecurity the situation and she herself was creating. She said I abandoned her by leaving tumblr because I experienced ‘a couple hours of anxiety.’ She basically called me a bad friend. She’d brought up previous trauma from my bad 2016 friendship experience, and somehow also childhood trauma from my mom’s treatment of me simultaneously. I’d started questioning (and honestly I still am questioning) if anything good I ever felt with her, if her friendship with me was ever real. I have kind of started to question the realness of every relationship I have or have ever had except for J and A and my son. It’s been really weird and hard and exhausting. I feel like I have whiplash. I had to write about it to feel better, but it’s why I’m here with like 10 people and I hope it never gets any bigger than this. I’m going to try and control it so it never gets any bigger.  

To close up here, my son is doing better. I feel free and generally happier and safer since I deleted my previous blog. I missed writing, so I made this intensely private space to do it again. I do not want the people who have previously hurt me to have any access to me at all. I feel better, but a lot of progress I’d made with trusting people and accepting positive attention from other people has been shattered to pieces. I do still believe in good D/s, and I still believe in good men. I still believe in mixed gender friendship and online friendship. I still believe in happily ever after love that lasts forever and that it’s everywhere and can start up a lot of different ways for ‘ordinary’, imperfect people. And I still believe that vulnerability in being known and sharing feelings and soul deep pieces of ourselves is hard but worth it. That all being said, we all have to be careful with ourselves, because people who show us what looks like friendship and love and care and help and protection can be deceiving. Even if you’ve known them what you think is well and what you think is for a long time and even if they’ve been sharing real life meals with you in your real life house. It’s even EASIER to deceive or fall for deception online, where our responses and images are curated and cultivated intentionally, and a level of anonymity can protect our creation. If you have/do trust someone who ends up hurting you, know that damn near all of us have experienced the same thing. It’s not on you for being a lover. It’s on them for being a deceptive piece of shit.

#DO NOT REBLOG THIS

[smallpumpkinboi]

This is a harsh reminder to stop manipulating people to be "educating" and becoming and activists on every simgle problem in the world. I'm sorry but its mentally draining and not everyone has the mental or physical capacity for this. I'm tired of seeing posts that tell people they are shit for not posting about political issues or donating. Not everyone is capable of doing years worth of study in like a week (and honestly most of the time its biased ideas that have a bad understanding of the topics) AND donating money, even signing petitions can be a bit sketchy. We need to focus on the changes people make within their own community, not what they post or say online

#peoole act like you need to get a phd underneath of every damn problem in the world to be a good person #why can't we make small but good changes and do nice things in our community instead of spending hours staring at google #trying to learn every damn thing about a problem you unfortunately cant solve #like I would like to solve food crisises in other countries but i have n capacity too #but i can make sure my friends coworkers neighbors and everyone around me has food #i cant solve racism but i can show small supports in my communities like drawing poc characters or buying from them at the market #im tired of people treating others like shit because they dont know of the latest woke internet trend which honest will change in a week #there is no morally doing good anymore #just keep up social media ideas and your good #as long as you look it online people are pleased no matter how shitty you are in real life #im done being bitter for now but ill be back later with more

[iwadori]

Haikyu boys when they make you insecure PT 1 (Kenma,Kuroo)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6.

Word Count:3k 

genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Kenma:

You and Kenma have been in a long distance relationship for a while.

Both of you stream, Kenma doing it seriously for his job and you just playing it for fun,

Sometimes you stream together of course but because of your difference in audiences and games you don’t do it all the time

“Bye guys! Hope you enjoyed todays stream” You wave off to the camera and shut off your PC taking a few sips of water.

Kenma: Hey.. nice stream today Y/N are you going to watch mine?

Y/N: Of course I will 

Kenma: Ok talk to you later

Y/N: okayy <3

Kenma is what inspired you to stream, he also taught you all the ins and outs of streaming making sure you were set and ready. Your gaming style was very relaxed and friendly as you obviously weren’t streaming as a career just for fun and to make friends with your online viewers. The games you played were usually: minecraft, COD, Sims 4, Roblox, Animal crossing and *Insert your favourite game here* the way I literally named all the games I play 

You wait for Kenmas stream to start, kind of excited as you’ve always loved seeing your boyfriend in his ‘element’ when it comes to playing to games. As your boyfriends stream starts you see he’s already chosen what game he is playing today which is to your surprise Call of duty, since that was the game you were playing earlier.

As he gets into the stream you are entertained, as always since Kenma was being his usual self laughing at his own deadpan jokes and interacting with his viewers. He is currently waiting for his capture the flag game to start so as he waits he decides to read some comments in the chat.

You’re used to the usual ‘Kenma where is Y/N I miss your usual streams together’ or ‘kenma please RAIL me’ which always makes you laugh. You were also used to the common hate comments Kenma and You both got on your streams but you were definitely not ready for this..

@ Ihatewomanandiamadick : Hey Kenma did you see your girls stream today she is so dog shit at COD lmaoooo jhdfkjdrhdrr

“Well hello ihatewomenandiamadick” started Kenma “but yes I did see Y/N stream and obviously she is not the best at games and I would definitely NOT ask her to team with me for any serious gaming competitions ... but she’s fun to watch I guess” as he finished speaking about you his game loaded up so he focused his attention on that the words he just spoke going to the back of his mind as they end up at the forefront of yours.

You obviously knew you were no match for Kenma’s gaming expertise but you didn’t expect him to publicly agree with a hate comment let alone add more of his imput on you. Did he really think that about you? ‘She’s fun to watch I guess’ did he not even enjoy your streams that much?

You wanted to distract yourself, and you definitely couldn’t do that watching him so you close off of his stream and get in your bed deciding to watch your favourite show. 

Waking up at 6pm after your sad nap, you see that Kenma has left some messages to you,

Kenma: hey did you watch my stream?

Kenma: do you want to facetime later and play some minecraft..?

Kenma: y/n r u ok??

Y/N: oh hey cnt play minecraft w you rn not really in the mood..

Kenma: oh ok..

Time passed since then a month to be exact and you basically dropped off of the face of the earth, you weren’t in the mood to do anything let alone game and stream, which was a constant reminder of your boyfriend (something you didn’t want at the time.) 

You felt embarrassed over all the things he said about you and all the things you now think he thinks about you and the way you play. Maybe he thinks even worse things about you, beyond just how you game? What if he doesn’t even genuinely like you...or he has someone else...it does make sense, you do both live miles and miles away from eachother AND he’s a big streamer you see the amount of girls in his comments.

You shake your head to erase your protruding thoughts coming in your mind, but it doesn’t really help. You and Kenma haven’t spoken much over this month he tried to constantly reach out to you at first but you assume he got bored over your constant, repetitive dry texts. So you were almost content with you and Kenma not even being in a relationship anymore.

However on Kenma’s side, he was beyond worried about you. Since you haven’t been streaming or barely responded to his texts he thought something happened to you, but he didn’t want to be seen as ‘overstepping boundaries’ if there was nothing wrong at all with you and you simply were just ‘not in the mood.’ 

So here he is, in Kuroo’s apartment trying to get him to help him out on finding out what is wrong with you.

“So kenma can you remember what happened the day when Y/N went ‘ghost’“ asked Kuroo in a mock detective voice

“Y/N didn’t go ‘ghost’ Kuro, and take this seriously” said Kenma “I’m worried bout her”

“Okay fine, but for real what’s the last thing you remember before she started acting all weird.” 

“Umm I think it was around a month ago I did my saturday stream and I think she was on it but she didn’t leave her usual nice comments throughout”

“Ohh that was the stream when you sai-” Kuroo said before pausing his words as the memory of what Kenma said about you on his stream came in his mind, as even Kuroo thought it was a tad bit harsh for Kenma to say all those things “I think I know why Y/N has been so distant kiddo”

“What why?” Asked Kenma

Kuroo pulls out his phone and brings up the clip off what Kenma said and Kenma’s face cringes ‘did he really say all those things about you’ he thinks. 

“Shit.. I didn’t know I said all of that” he said quietly “how do I make it up to her?”

“There’s only one thing you can really do Kenma” said kuroo

You are woken up out of your sleep by a knock on the door. Getting out your bed like a zombie, you trudge to your front door only surprised by what you see. There in his 5′6 glory stood your ‘boyfriend’ Kenma with a controller and a kitten teddy in his hand. You were very tempted to shut the door in his face and get back to your dreamless sleep but you waited on him to speak.

“Hi Y/N” he said quietly “wanna play some minecraft...?”

“Why so you can ridicule me on how shit I am?” You ask bitterly ready to shut the door on him

“No! No not all” he said stopping you from shutting the door entering your place “Y/N i’m really sorry on what I said, I wasn’t thinking AT ALL... I love watching your streams and I think you’re great at playing games...I was just being a dick,”

You take a deep breath before tears pool in your eyes “what you said really hurt me kenma..” you say “ I know people say shitty things on the internet all the time... it’s the internet. But I wasn’t expecting you to agree with the hater and say even more shitty things on top of that.. I don’t think I want to even stream anymore”

Upon hearing that, Kenma’s mouth parts open with shock ‘you dont want to stream anymore’ were his comments that bad? Now he feel even worse as he should and is now more determined to make things right. 

He impulsively drags your arm into your game room, catching your surprise ‘what is he up too?’ you think. He stops for a second seeing your usual pristine gaming set up, collected up with dust. 

“What are you do-” you start 

“Just wait!” He says, as he rushes away turning on all your stuff and logging onto his twitch account as he sees the views go up he starts to speak

 “Hi guys, its me kodzuken and today I’m here on stream with my beautiful girlfriend and today I want to say..” he turns to you “Y/N im so sorry for the horrible things I said to you that day... I was just being a dick and I’m sorry I really am.”

You look at the chat and you see some confusion and some people recalling his words from last month. “It’s fine Kenma, I forgive you” you say giving him a hug”

“Okay Y/N, so what do you say... wanna beat my ass at bed wars?” He says with a smirk 

“When have I ever loss?” you return his smirk

Of course you did beat his ass as bed wars for rounds on rounds never losing proving yourself to actually be a good gamer girl. You enjoyed your time with Kenma, forgetting what he said before about you and moving on. 

Eventually, you guys moved in together and streamed together all the time and yes you still do play for fun but you’ve gotten way better at COD (some may say better then Kenma) but who is better didn’t matter to any of you, as long as you got to play together that’s all you both cared about.

Kuroo:

Kuroo and you have been together since you were in your first year of high school 

You met as friends first when you got him to tutor you in chemistry ( a subject you still aren’t that good at.)

Now you have your upcoming entrance exams for university in a month so your school has you doing mock exams in preparation for them.

20%

You look down at your chemistry paper that your teacher just handed you. 20%. You’re surprised, very surprised since out of all your subjects (that you go 90+% on) you studied on the chemistry test the hardest ensuring Testurou, that you didn’t need his help at all. But I guess it turns out, you did.

This failing mock grade put a blunder on your day, you didn’t interact with anyone and didn’t want to see your boyfriend so you skipped your usual routine of meeting him on the rooftop and went to the library instead ‘might aswell start early on your studying’ you thought.

As you were going over your chemistry topics, you hear an ‘ahem’ next to you and you turn your head only to find your boyfriend and his friends next to you. Kuroo with his usual goofy smile on his face. 

“Hey kitten where were you at lunch?” he asked 

“Needed to go to the library, Chemistry is kicking my ass” you mumbled 

“Oya” he said as he noticed your chemistry test laying under your textbook “20%, well damn Y/N I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t know you were that stupid” he laughed doing his stupid usual hyena-like laugh.

Ouch well that hurt. You slightly flinched at his words, “Really your name, you didn’t know the molecular formula for ethanol, that’s first year work” he said continuing to laugh “I’m pretty sure that’s one of the first things I tutored you on when we first met” 

His overbearing laughter was not good for you, you were already having a bad day and yes you do know your not that good at chemistry but you didn’t need your chemistry-enthusiast boyfriend to make fun of you for failing. Kenma and Yaku stood there awkwardly obviously aware of how bad Kuroo is making you feel but they didn’t really know how to stop his friend in the moment.Whilst he’s still dying of laughter you decide to pack up your stuff and leave the library.

You managed to get your Chemistry tutor to let you retake your mock paper in a week so that means, extra hard studying with no distractions you definitely can’t fail again. Since studying on your own was definitely not a good option, and you couldn’t go to Kuroo (especially after he ridiculed you) you decided to ask the second smartest person you know to tutor you.

Y/N: Hey Yaku! Can I ask you a favour?

Yaku: Hi Y/N what do you need??

Y/N: I have my chemistry retake next week, and as you know from your loud-loud friend I failed my recent test so can you tutor me?? 

Y/N: Pleaseeee

Yaku: Ok Y/N why can’t you ask Kuroo you know that he’d be more than happy to help

Y/N: Yakuu pleasee just help me out 

So there you was, nearly a week done with your study sessions with Yaku and you’re feeling way more confident than before. 

“Y/N what is the functional group of a Carboxylic Acid” Yaku asked

“umm... COO?” 

“Great! that’s correct Y/N” he praises i dont actually know if it’s correct or not

You then hear a knock at Yaku’s front door and hear his mum let the person in, Kuroo then enters Yaku’s bedroom with shock plastered on his face surprised to see you here.

“Y/N...hey?” he says confused “what are you doing here?”

“Oh Mori-chan is just helping me with chemistry for my retake tommorow” you say nochalantly internally smiling at the twinge in Kuroo’s face at the purposeful use of Yaku’s first name.

“So why didn’t you ask me to help you know I’m a chemistry whiz” he asks

“Maybe I’m too stupid to be taught under your tutelage” you mumble “since I seem to forget whatever you teach me, even when it’s 3 years ago... but ok”

“Y/N I-” he starts 

“Oh save it Kuroo, I have studying to do” you say cutting him off

“But I-” he tries

“So Mori-chan COOH is the function group of ethyl ethonate right?” you ask ignoring your boyfriend who is now at a lost for words

“ummm yeah it is” says yaku who is clearly feeling heavily awkward at the tension in his bedroom.

Kuroo leaves and you and yaku finish off the studying for the night, you did feel a little bad for being a bit mean to Kuroo but it’s karma for him being a dick to you. 

You wake up the next day ready for your exam which was first thing in the morning, before you hand in your phone you see a message from Kuroo,

Kuroo: I know you’re still mad at me, but I think you’re going to do so well on this test. You’re not stupid at all, you’re really smart and I love you < 3 

Kuroo: Good luck Y/N

You don’t respond to the message but smile at the sincerity of it and thankful for the boost of confidence it gave you before you start your exam.

Finishing the exam with a smile, you were confident you did well as everything you and Yaku went over was on the paper and you’re almost certain you atleast got more than 75%. You have to wait an hour before your teacher can give you your results, so in the meantime you might aswell reconcile with Kuroo.

When you exit the classroom, standing there was Kuroo who seemed to have been waiting for you for the whole duration of the exam.

“So how was it?” Kuroo asked, apprenhensive as he assumed you would just ignore him like you did at Yaku’s house.

“It was fine, I think it went alright..” you say

“Kuroo”

“Y/N”

You say simultaneously, he pauses for a second to let you speak “I’m sorry I was being so stand offish when we were at Yaku’s I just wanted you to see I could do it on my own, and when you called me stupid I really took that to heart since you and I both know that Chemistry wasn’t ever my best subject” 

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and since it was only a practice test I didn’t think you’d take it to heart but I am sorry I know you aren’t stupid.”

Before you got to say anything else, your Chemistry teacher exited the room with your chemistry paper in hand. Kuroo grabbed your hand anticipating your nerves and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Miss L/N” said your teacher “Well done on your chemistry test” he turned your test around to sure a perfect 100%. Both you and Kuroo gasped, you were elated to say the least you wanted to jump up and down in excitement but a PERFECT 100%.

“I’d also like to add that you have now got the top chemistry score in the school beating the previous title holder Kuroo Testurou” said your teacher, this made Kuroo open his mouth even wider in surprise nearly making you giggle at his response. 

Your teacher took his leave, leaving you and Kuroo in the hallway “ I guess i’m the chemistry whizz now “ you say wiggling your eyebrows just as Kuroo did to you before at Yaku’s this made him chuckle as he came to put his arm around you.

“Y/N don’t get ahead of yourself now, you may have won this battle but I will win the war” he said smiling

In the final exam, you continue your winning streak also getting a near 100% and still beating Kuroo which didn’t matter to either of you, now you’re just like him cracking chemistry puns and jokes all the time which none of your friends appreciated but atleast Kuroo found them SODIUM funny.

AN: Please kill me for the last line of Kuroos, I didn’t really like Kuroo’s since it was a bit self indulgent with my hate for chemistry but what do you guys think?

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu fluff #haikyu scenarios #haikyu headcanons #kenma angst #kenma fluff #kenma x you #kozume kenma #kenma scenario #kenma headcanons #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo scenarios #kuroo fluff #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsuro x reader #signedwithanE😌

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS IV | MATTHEW GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Read PART 3.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.9k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Love Affair - UMI

Debt - Eliza McLamb

Sometimes Sunshine - Seasalt

A nonstop flight, from New York City to Los Angeles, is three hours long. On a good day. And May 16 was supposed to be a good day. A great day. The best day of Matthew’s life. He tries not to think about it, not to reminisce too often. About the way he walked through the airport with a little jog, a little pep in his step. And the way he smiled through security, and constantly checked behind him as if you would magically appear. The roses he bought for you in a gift shop near the terminal.

See, a nonstop flight from New York City to Los Angeles is three hours long. On a good day. But Matthew wasn’t looking for three hours. He wasn’t asking you for a few hours of your time, or even a good day. He was asking you for a lifetime.

And that day, he had booked you two a connecting flight that totaled over six hours, with a two hour layover in Colorado. There was a little ice cream shop in the Denver airport, and they served blueberry ice cream. Matthew remembered it was your favorite, and saved just enough money to get your tickets and an entire pint. He couldn’t shake the thought of flying across the country with you, seeing a few small parts of it at a time. A few small parts at a time, until someday, you two had seen the whole world together.

He bought a blanket for you and, while waiting at the terminal, he sat it in the seat beside him, keeping it warm for when you would arrive. He had a little itinerary written in his notes app, and so far everything was going to plan. He had a bouquet of roses in his lap, and he killed time by looking up engagement rings online.

He didn’t start to worry until maybe, an hour, an hour and a half before the plane was set to depart. He called you, just to check in, and it went straight to voicemail. But he was still hopeful. There was very little that could destroy his peace that day. His hope. His happiness.

He tries not to think about it. The way the seconds inched by like a caterpillar moving across the limb of a tree. Slowly, painfully. The way his hope dwindled, and dwindled, and the insane amount of times he heard,

Hey, it’s [y/n]! Leave a message!

He can’t think about it anymore. The way he spents those six hours alone. Bawling his way through flight after flight, and eating a pint of blueberry ice cream by himself. He spent hours on his own. And weeks, months, hell, he spent years thinking that maybe, just maybe, you would find your way back to him.That the universe would magically correct itself.

And you’d come home.

Fifteen.

It took him fifteen years to find you again. It took fifteen years for the universe to bring you back together, and Matthew spent the first five thinking it was all some really shitty nightmare. It took him fifteen years to get close to you, to hear you say his name again, to get inside of you again.

And he managed to fuck it all up in a matter of twenty-four hours.

His body is paralyzed. His mind is moving a mile a minute, and he can’t take his eyes off the ceiling. His chest feels tight, like he can’t breathe properly. He knows he should not feel sorry for himself. That he, alone, is responsible for this wreck. But he can’t seem to shake it. He can’t seem to move.

“What the hell did I do?”

A knock at your door wakes you up. You don’t remember falling asleep, you don’t know how you were able to. But now, it’s all you want to do. You want to stay in the bed, in a state of unconsciousness and dreariness where you can’t remember your mistakes. But someone is knocking. Incessantly, loudly. And they won’t stop.

You roll out of bed, and drag your body across the floor. Zombie like, your shoulders are slouched, your eyes are hooded. Your feet shuffle along the floor like they’re weighted to the hardwood. Your footsteps are slow, hesitant. You don’t know what you’ll do if Matthew is on the other side of that door. You just . . . you don’t know. The very thought of it is making your stomach churn, and you suddenly feel very, very nauseous. The banging continues, and it’s as someone is using all their force. Like they’d break the door down if they could.

“[y/n]!”

You instantly relax at the sound of her voice. You speed up, hurry to the door, “[y/n] [y/l/n]! I know you can hear me! Open up!”

The door swings open and you catch her with her fist in the air, ready to strike the door once again. She’s pissed, doesn’t try to hide it, couldn’t hide it even if she tried.

“Good morning,” you rasp.

“It’s one in the afternoon,” she corrects you, pushing her way into your home.

“Please,” you say, shutting the door behind her. “Come on in.”

“Y’know,” Everest starts, clasping her hands in front of her as a wild look graces her face. “You’ve always been one of the good ones . . . hell, you’ve been . . . great, if that’s the word. You’re better than the others. The ones that really write my checks. But, um, you’re testing me, [y/n].”

You don’t even have to ask.

“Now, if there’s is some magical relationship blooming, or a monumental disaster about to strike, then you need to tell me now, so I can fix it. I’m a fixer, you know, that’s what I do. So, why are you making this so hard for me?”

“If it . . .” you clear your throat, cross your arms as you stare at her feet. “If it makes you feel any better, um, this is hard for me, too.” You attempt to joke. But you just sound sad.

“Yeah?” she raises her eyebrows. “So hard that you come out of his hotel in tears? And what the hell were you doing over there anyway? Was there a plan? Did he call you to come over?”

“I don’t see how any of this matters.”

“It matters because I woke up at seven in the morning — on a saturday — to all sorts of choas and speculation, and picture evidence of you doing exactly what I told you not to do!”

“Yeah, well, I’m a idiot. Don’t worry, that’s been established.”

“The internet is undefeated. Okay? People are . . . great at making up stories, making assumptions. And as your publicist, I need to know the whole story, the real story, before it gets twisted even further.”

You sigh, and walk over to the couch. As you sit down, you pull a pillow into your lap for just a little bit of comfort. “What do you mean the whole story?”

“Wrong choice of words,” Everest says. “The important parts of the whole story. Like are you dating him? Are you fucking him? If so, how long has this been going on?”

You can’t make eye contact as you speak, “I . . . fucked . . . him . . . a few times, a long time ago . . .”

She nods. She motions at you to continue, “. . . And?”

“And . . .” you breathe out. “I fucked him, again. Recently.”

“Last night? At the hotel?”

“Last night . . . not at the hotel.”

“Sooo, when? — Oh, my God,” she lowers her eyebrows at you, purses her lips. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” you nod. It’s a shameful nod. “You know they say there’s no sex like sex in a dressing room.”

“They also say polka dots are making a comeback, you believe everything you hear?”

“Sorry.”

“So you fuck him in the dressing room, and?”

“And . . . we go our seperate ways . . . again. And, then I realize that’s a lot easier said then done, so I . . . I go for him. I go for him . . .” Everest can hear the way your voice is cracking, the way the weight on your shoulder is slowly pushing the air out of your lungs. “And, uh,” you clear your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, it didn’t work out. Hence the . . . photos of me crying, I guess.”

“Mm,” she nods, crosses her arms. “And the other girl?”

You freeze, cut your head up at her. “What other girl?”

“What do you mean? The girls that came out right behind you. Same sad face? Kinda got a Natalie Portman look to her?”

“I . . .” you shake your head. “I didn’t know she came out after me, I must have left by then.”

“Who is she?”

You give her a shrug, “I don’t know.”

“His girlfriend?”

You huff, “Guess so.”

“Ah, so, some people online actually got it right. Huh, look at that.”

“Look, if the point of all of this is to keep me away from him, you can stop now. I don’t plan on seeing him ever again.”

The doorbell rings, as if on queue, and Everest instantly gives you a look. “What?” you ask. “I don’t know who it is. Your guess is as good as mine.”

She scoffs at you, and turns around, marching towards the door with a certain determination. She pulls it open, and immediately puts her hand on her hip. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Oh,” Matthew gasps. “Uh, oh . . . fuck . . . sorry, I must — I must have the wrong house.”

“You sure do, Romeo.”

You stand from the couch, your face laced with shock and anger and confusion, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Don’t engage, [y/n], what the hell?” Everest interjects.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “How the hell did you find my house?” you direct at Matthew.

“Oh, what?” he scoffs. “Like you’re the only one around here who can play stalker?”

“Go home, Matthew.”

“Five minutes. I’m asking you for five minutes. You can time me if you want.”

“Go back to California, Matthew.”

“Look, I know I fucked up. I know, but —“

“Do you?” you snap. You take slow, calculated steps towards the front door, and your voice is lowering to a rumble. “Do you know that you fucked up? Because, if you did, if you truly knew just how badly you fucked up, then you would leave. You would get on a fucking plane and leave, and you would never come back!”

The way Matthew is looking at you right now.Like he can’t fathom what’s happening. Like he is trying his very best not to feel defeated. “Can I . . . can I just —“

“No.” Everest says. “You heard her. Fuck off, string bean.”

You walk away, retiring to your kitchen. You try to keep yourself busy, but you’re trembling like mad and you can barely breathe.

Matthew leaves. You know because you hear the door close. Everest comes into the kitchen, and you feel stuck. Frozen to the spot and position you’re in. Your back is to her, and you can’t begin to imagine or guess what look is on her face right now.

She’s quiet for a moment, eyeing you with her arms crossed at her chest. She leans against the entryway and sighs, “Tell me more.”

Ramona walks up your driveway, and it isn’t until she looks up from her phone that she sees Matthew. She notices him, and he notices her, and Ramona tries to act like it didn’t happen, But when Matthew opens his mouth to speak, she blows past him, “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

“I know,” he says instantly. He is well aware, but it doesn’t stop him from running in front of her, blocking her from your front door. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, but . . . please, can you give this [y/n]?”

Matthew holds out an envelope. It’s bright red, your name is printed on the front of it in his handwriting.

Ramona glances at it, but she quickly glances back up, “Do I look like a mailman to you?”

“She won’t take it from me. She won’t talk to me. She might take it from you.”

“Yeah, or she might fire me for even taking it from you in the first place.”

“[y/n] wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s usually pretty amazing, except for when you’re around, or when you’re brought up, or when you’re fucking with her head. You make her a different person, dude. I want no part of it.”

He nods, looks down, “Fair enough . . . I’ll put it in her mailbox.”

“Yeah, why don’t you do that?” She shrugs, and she continues on by him.

“Damn . . .” Everest says. “You ghosted the guy at the airport?”

“Basically,” you shrug.

“Well, fuck,” she scoffs. “That is some serious great gatsby shit.”

“Yeah, we’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

The doorbell rings, and you both turn your heads sharply towards the entrance. “You don’t think he would come back, do you?” Everest asks as she walks to the door.

“Well, he never listens much to anything I say, but he’s probably a little scared of you.”

She laughs, and when she opens the door, she tells you it’s only Ramona, who walks in quickly, looking for you. She gives you a soft smile, and joins you in the kitchen as Everest follows close behind.

“So,” Ramona pips. “What’s the game plan?”

“You and [y/n] come to my office in the city and we’ll figure it out. Hey, did you pass him on your way out?” Everest asks her.

“Uh, who?”

“Matthew,” you tell her. “He was just here, you didn’t see him?”

“He was here?” Ramona questions, putting on a look of bewilderment. “When?”

“Just now. He left right before you got here.” Everest explains.

“Holy shit,” Ramona says. “What’d he want?”

“[y/n].”

“So,” you interrupt. “Your office? Now? We can go ahead and get going.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Everest stops you in your tracks, throwing her hands up. “Not so fast, you . . . you need to shower first.”

You look down at your outfit. You’re still dressed in Claire’s clothes and they’re completely disheveled. You haven’t showered or brushed your teeth since the last time you had sex, and the very thought makes you feel dirty. You look exactly how you feel. You sigh, “Fair enough.”

“We’ll wait in the car,” Everest nods, and motions to Ramona to follow her.

“What are we gonna do with her?” she says to Ramona as soon as they’re out of the house and walking down the driveway.

“I don’t know, she’s my boss . . . I can only help so much.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve known [y/n] for a long time now, and she’s never needed saving. But, something tells me we’re going to have to keep her away from this one.”

“From Matthew?” Ramona stops in her tracks.

“Well,” Everest stops, turns around to look at her. “She’s a grown woman. She’ll do what she wants. But, that zombie in there,” she motions to the house. “Who walks around the city in her pajamas for a man, is not [y/n]. Atleast, not the world’s [y/n]. People love her. She’s one of the few celebrities that’s kind and passionate and isn’t problematic. I’m just being proactive here.”

“Proactive?”

“She says she’s done with him. She told him she’s done with him. Now, we will just keep her on that path. Few months later, she and the rest of the world forget this ever happened and everything is back to normal.”

“You sound very sure of all of this.”

“Yeah, well, I like my schedules and I happen to like [y/n] so I better be sure. Come on, our ride’s further down the driveway,” Everest continues walking. While Ramona is stuck in place.

“Hey! Uh,” Ramona stutters, suddenly, loudly, causing Everest to turn around once again. “I think I left my water bottle in the house. I’ll meet you in the car?”

“Okay,” Everest eyes her. “It’s just around the corner. And tell [y/n] to hurry up.”

“I will!”

Ramona waits for Everest to continue down the driveway, and when she’s just far enough, Ramona turns around and acts as if she’s walking back up to your front door. When she’s positive Everest has made it to the car, she runs over to your mailbox. She opens it slowly, so it doesn’t creak as loud. The bright red envelope is the only thing in there, and she takes it out quickly. She looks at it for a moment, asks herself what the hell she’s doing. But she doesn’t have time to think right now, you could walk out at any moment. She closes your mailbox, shoves the envelope in her bag, and walks down the driveway.

Matthew Gubler, himself, is a disruption in the space-time continuum.

When you start tallying up the days, it just doesn’t make sense. Some days, every second feels like it’s crawling by. You’ll be in class, at the head of the class, and you’re surprised when your lesson plan ends atleast ten minutes early. And some days, time moves too fast. You find yourself running late for things, events, important people or things, which isn’t like you.

You call it Matthew Brain, and you keep that term to yourself. It happened fifteen years ago. And it’s happening now. It’s a slow, steady descent back to earth, back to reality. Time isn’t real with him, and you think that’s the reason you can’t remember much of your senior year. It’s a rush, a high to even be near him, and it’s the ultimate collapse when he’s gone. Really gone. Out of the life, for the second time.

Time has reset.

And what feels like one month with Matthew Gubler, only turns out to be four days.

You’re on a journey back to earth, and you haven’t even reached the bottom yet. It’s coming, but not now, you thought. You have time to prepare. And this time you’ll be ready. Ready to hit rock bottom, and spend another fifteen years digging yourself out. You have time, you’re sure of it.

Then Ramona comes into your office. She notices you crying, and you have to twirl around in your chair while you wipe the tears away. “Shit, Ro,” you try to laugh. “What’s up?”

“Uh, your afternoon class?” she reminds you. “With the girls at the community center? . . . What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

A lot. Not anything that you can really talk to Ramona about. And each day is something different. Like today, you’re feeling like a fucking idiot. You feel unbelievably stupid and lost and question why anyone in their right mind would choose to learn anything from you. You feel defeated, and you can’t get the look on that girl’s face out of your head.

You turn to Ramona with a soft smile, “I’m fine. I forgot about the class, thank you for reminding me. I just have to grab a few things before I go.”

“Well,” she sets her bag down in one of the chairs on the opposite side of your desk. She takes a seat in the other, “You’ve got some time, I haven’t even called the ride yet.”

You eye her, suspicious furrowing your eyebrows, “Oh, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she seems genuinely confused.

“Sit there and feel sorry for me. I don’t need pity. I’m alright.”

“I’ve never seen you cry before . . . I’m just worried.”

“And I appreciate that, kid, I really do. But you don’t have to be, alright?”

“. . . okay.” she shrugs.

“Anyways,” you change the subject. “How much time do I have until I’ve gotta be out of here?”

“Um, I can call you a ride now, it should be here in about, ten minutes?” Ramona pulls her phone from her pocket, and holds it up as she dials the number.

“Sounds good,” you nod.

She leaves the room to make the call, and when she closes the door, you release a big sigh. As if you’d been holding it in the whole time she was here. You get up from your chair, and walk around the desk. Not paying attention, you stub your toe into the adjacent chair, so hard that the chair falls to the ground.

“Ow! Son of a b—“ your yelp is cut off by a painful groan, and your reach down to hold your foot. You look out in front of you, and Ramona’s entire bag has spilled out across the floor. “Fuck,” you mumble and instantly begin to clean it up.

It’s bright red. And it sticks out like a sore thumb. You reach over to grab it, but only because you recognized his hand writing. You run your fingers over your name, and your head is starting to hurt from the amount of pure confusion.

The door swings open, “Okay, they’ll be here in fifteen, but you have some wiggle room —“ Ramona stops when she sees the item in your hand.

You stand up straight, look her in the eye. She’s shaking. She’s trembling, and there are already tears in her eyes.

“I . . . can explain,” she says.

“Then explain.”

“Matthew . . . wanted me to — to give that to you.”

“When?”

“When, um, when he was at your house on Saturday.”

“You said you didn’t see him. You acted like you didn’t even know he had been there. You took this from him?” your voice goes up at slight octave. Not by much, but it stills cuts Ramona like a knife.

“No! No, I didn’t take it from him. I told him to put it in the mailbox. Which he did, but then I . . .”

“You? You what? Went into my mailbox and took it? Are you kidding?”

“It was crazy! I know! It was absolutely insane of me! But—But Everest was saying all these things about protecting your image, and being proactive, I just wanted to help. I thought —“

“Everest? Everest knew about this?”

“No. No. I took it when she wasn’t looking, and I just, I thought maybe if you didn’t know about the letter, you would be able to move on, y’know? Heal.”

“That was not your decision to make.”

“I know. [y/n], I’m so sorry. I can’t — I can’t even begin —“

“You’re right,” you interrupt her. “You can’t.”

You look down at the envelope in your hands, and shake your head. “God, Ro, I can barely look at you right now.”

“I’m sorry . . .”

You nod.

“I’ll . . . go wait for the car,” she nods, sadly and apologetically exiting the room.

You close the door behind her, and press your back against it. You slide to the floor, and bring the evelope close to your face. The day is not over, and you may need all night to take this in. You are not mentally prepared for whatever is in your hands, but, you rip it open anyway.

There’s a thin piece of paper inside. You pick it up, and it feels so frail that you worry it might rip. You set it on top of the envelope, and examine it. Your eyes dot over the page, until you realize, it’s not a letter at all.

American Airlines

[y/n] [y/l/n]

Seat: 14A

May Sixteenth, 2002

It’s a plane ticket. From fifteen years ago.

One you’ve never seen.

One you’ve never touched.

And now that it’s in your hands, you wish you never knew it existed.

#mgg #esny #tg #mine

[olderthannetfic]

You have way more wisdom and experience than I do and also approach topics with a lot of nuance (which I really appreciate) so I was hoping you could offer some help. If this ask is too heavy or it's too weird feel free to ignore.

I've been Poor my whole life and I've also been severely mentally ill most of my life. Mental health care isn't covered by my country's government and therapy is really expensive so I pushed on using mostly online tips and tricks to manage my depression. But that's not working anymore. I do everything I see online but it's not helping any longer. I've journaled in old school notebooks, I've worked out at home so much I'd be buff if I wasn't too underweight to gain muscle, the little food I can afford is so meticulously chosen as to be healthy that I put health food bloggers to shame and a host of other stuff people tell you will cure depression.

I recently realized that a lot of the things that happened to me as a kid were actually extremely traumatic and abusive which only added to it.

I'm desperate for any support but I can't afford therapy and I also can't just say to my friends "I need you to help me with complex trauma." that would be overstepping boundaries and also very entitled of me, so I'm definitely not doing that.

I worry that eventually it will be too much and I'll fully have a mental breakdown, which would be disastrous for me as I pay for my college myself and a mental breakdown wouldn't exactly be good for my barely above minimum wage job.

How do I prevent that? Are there any sources that can assist you when you know that realistically you can't afford therapy? Or are there books or online services that can help? Is there way to work through this right now until I save enough for a therapist. I'm at my wits end and it's starting to become obvious to those around me that I'm struggling a lot mentally. Just going through the day is soul crushing and my only motivation is the money I pay for my degree not being wasted.

This is a lot to ask from anyone, especially an online stranger, so please don't feel obligated to answer. if you can't answer that's fine and I'll probably ask Reddit again. Also if any part of this is trauma dumping please let me know as I struggle with knowing when I'm just telling people stuff and when I'm trauma dumping

--

Nah, this isn't trauma dumping. That usually involves more details of what happened to you and is often in a derailing context in an existing conversation.

Unfortunately, if there were easy answers, you'd already have found them.

The first thing is not to beat yourself up. Mental illness and poverty do a number on anybody.

All that "go jogging to feel better" shit is for people who have mild situational depression. You don't. No matter how hard you work, none of that crap is going to fix it. I mean, eating healthy couldn't hurt, but it's not your fault it didn't work. It was never going to work.

Yours is presumably a brain that needs meds, and until you can afford to pump some different chemicals into it, it's going to keep making the wrong ones and ruining your day. Health is a nice goal... Under the current circumstances, however, I think a more useful goal is just to survive. Every day above ground is a win.

As long as you're still kicking, there's always time for things to improve. You don't need to be a superhero and fix yourself right now. You just need to make it through school till you can at least focus on just the shitty job instead of the shitty job plus school. (And hopefully, a better job, eventually.) Whatever keeps you upright and heading for that goal is what you should do.

In terms of specific resources, you could try looking up the DBT resources other people have been talking about. DBT seems to be used on otherwise intractable depression, suicidal tendencies, etc. and often on people with a hot mess of a childhood.

Unstructured journaling and general "try to be healthy" stuff has not helped, so I would focus on more structured practices that involve specific homework. Meditation and mindfulness exercises may help (and are a part of DBT).

[imagineryupfuckedworld]

Are you okay?

Fandom: Solo Leveling Genderneutral Reader Pairing: Sung Jin Woo x Reader TW: Uhm mention of blood, depression, abandonment Part 1? Idk

You always knew he was something special. Even though it needed time to come through. It needed time to become, what he is now. Like a Diamond who once was coal, he now shines brighter than anyone. Maybe “shine” is the wrong word, but regardless, everyone now knows it. Everyone can finally see it. The way you always saw him. Sung Jin Woo finally broke through the shell that was around him. You never knew why he changed. What happened, except what was heard from others. After his major change Jin Woo begun to keep his distance. Maybe it was unintentional, maybe not. But he keeps drifting apart from you. Week to Week, day to day, hour to hour. No more daily calls till one fell asleep. No more patching him up and scolding him lightly because you were so worried about him. No more Bubbleteas and weekly get together. No more need to help him pay for the hospital bills and rent. No more anything. Jin Woo now reached a World, were you can’t be a part of it anymore. You aren’t a Hunter. So you can’t even support him in that matter. Helping him to pay off the bills was one of the only things you could do to support him but even now that isn’t needed anymore. Not to mention being emotional support when he needed it. He doesn’t need you anymore. Or so you feel. He doesn’t call anymore. He doesn’t tell you about the dungeons, how his family is. He doesn’t reminisce about old days with you anymore. Not even a text that he is okay, alive, unharmed. Nothing. No updates, only what you can see online from his new friends and his sister. Seemingly forgetting about you. You are happy for him. That people finally realize what a good person Jin Woo is. That he gets what he deserves for having such a difficult life. But it hurt that you don’t seem to be a part of it anymore. Even after he was...is such a major part of your life. Is it because you are weak? Ugly? Annoying? You don’t know because he never told you. He doesn’t tell you anything anymore...and you begun to keep silent about your life. At the beginning, you still updated him about your life, trying to keep small talk and texting about random things like you always do. Sending him memes and videos. But it slowly faded after his replies got shorter and shorter and shorter, then left in read and in the end, you weren’t even worthy enough to be left on read. It all came to a halt. No texts, no calls, no meetings. You even begun to avoid everything that has to do with him. Things that would remind you of him. All the pictures, gifts, everything physically was but into a box and placed somewhere, where you wouldn’t see it. You can’t. It just hurt to be reminded of how worthless you got. Your daily life changed and you tried to forget him, even to replace him but it was difficult. Somehow you managed to get your act together. When you have to socialize it is. At home, alone, it was a different story. It broke you how easily you were tossed away. As happy as you are for him, it hurt as much. You tried to talk to him so often, but he always found a way to avoid you. The more often you tried, the easier he slipped away. This was till you two had no choice but to interact. When the Dungeonmonsters came out of the Gates, all hell broke lose. It was terrifying seeing the things that Hunters are supposed to hunt, for yourself. They were monstrous, tall, bloody, horrendous and dangerous. Nobody expected that such things would come out, even though everybody feared it after the JeJu-Island-Raid. At that time, you were near the Gate. Shopping for Groceries. You were almost squashed to death from a big foot that stepped right in front of you. Your throat tightening. Gulping down a scream you fell on your behind. The groceries were now splattered everywhere. You saw dead bodies between the big toes of the Monster, seemingly the Hunters who wanted to clear the Gate. Wasn’t it a small D-Rank-Gate? Why are these monsters here? You did not had the time to think about it as the Monster seemed to notice you. It bend downward, his arm reaching out to you. You tried to scramble away. To get up and run inside in hope you would be safer there but you toppled over and over. Tears begun to well up into your eyes. Hiccups bubbling in your throat and your heart clenched. Your breath irregular. You don’t want to die. Yes, you go through so much pain right now and life is shitty but you don’t want to die. Help! Was your only thought. Someone, please help me! Anybody! any “anybody” came to rescue you. The second he took you in his arms you knew, who it was. The smell was what gave him out. The smell of Ebony that never left him. He shielded your eyes, so you wouldn’t see the blood he spilled or anything else, that would be to gruesome for you, knowing how sensitive you are. You can’t even watch a horrormovie properly without hiding your face in his shoulder. “Are you okay?” hearing his voice after so long made you tear up. The question he gave you, these simple words, stirred something up inside of you. It wasn’t pain or sadness that you felt all the time. No, it was anger. Anger at him for that it was of all the people him that rescued you. That he asked this question, after all the time. Asking, because of the monsters and not, because of all the other things or because he really want to know. You pushed him roughly away. Your head turned away so you wouldn’t see him. Not wanting to spare him any glance. “Thanks...” You tried to rescue what you could from your groceries, not waiting for anything he could say. You just want to go before you say something that you could regret. But what is it, that you would regret? Saying how you feel? How Jin Woo made you feel? How he threw you away? Or is it, that you would regret saying all these things knowing, it could hurt him like it has hurt you? “I asked if you’re okay?” The grip around the now ripped plastic-bag tightened. Your lips formed a thin line. Why can’t he just go and leave you alone like he already did? He is stirring up emotions, you never wanted to feel regarding him. “Why do you care?” It was a simple question. But filled with so much emotion and at the same time none. He looked taken aback. His eyes widened a bit when you looked him dead in the eyes. You gaze as dead and hollow as you feel at night. He opened his mouth to say something but you beat him to that. “I mean, you didn’t cared since a long time ago about me, no? Ignoring me, avoiding me, replacing and throwing me away. And now? Now you come here, rescuing me for what I am thankful, but asking me if I am okay? No. I am not. A monster almost killed me. In fact I am scared to death and at the verge of crying,” your voice begun to break a little, hiccups threatening to come out “But it is also a fact, that this isn’t the worst of all the things.” instead of hiccups, a bitterly laugh came out. “No, worse is, that it is you who rescued me. The Person who I did not wanted to see. So, no, I am not okay but it doesn’t concern you anymore, so goodbye.” Leaving your groceries behind you ran. As fast as you could. Never stopping or looking back. Not before you got home. You ran so much and so fast, you almost doubled over and puked on the floor. Your entire body was shaking, you sweat. You feel hot and cold at the same time. Your mind was racing faster, than you just ran. Everything just bubbled up and came out. It was too much to hold in it, so you screamed and trashed. Screamed our lungs out till they gave in and your throat begun to hurt and burn. You knocked everything over, throwing and kicking things. Hammering your fist against the walls till they bleed. You don’t know how long you did that but you stopped when you felt his arm around you. Again. The smell was intoxicating. A cloud of his smell formed around you. “I’m so sorry...” it was then and there, that you begun to cry. You pounded against his chest. Cried. Screamed at him. Merciless at how much he hurt you. How you hated him. How you never want to see him again. Asking him why he did that. Insulting him till no end. While you did all that. he just silently embraced you. Taking everything in you said. Never saying something against it or making excuses. Only these three words came out of him. Over and over and over.

#solo leveling #i alone level up #sung jin woo #sung jin woo x reader #x reader #scenario #Solo leveling Scenario

[blackbat05]

I need a break

Shangqi x Reader (Platonic) 

A/N: I feel like I’m loosing steam towards the end of my placement and wow I have never needed a break this badly before. Perhaps a short Shangqi x Reader imagine where they are both University students. Seriously at this rate I’ll just be solely a Shangqi writer HAHAHA. Doing this on my phone because I don’t want to open my work computer. Let’s see where this impromptu idea takes me to. Hope you enjoy it and as always like and comment if you wish!

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: None really, just friends supporting each other! I guess there’s an inaccurate timeline if you look at the MCU but hey this is an imagine plus if you look at some of the wiki pages, Shangqi is actually born in 1998/1999. So appreciate if you’re kind enough to go with the flow to read this comfort fic! 

‘Y/N!’ Shangqi rushes to catch up with you after class. You made an effort to conceal your tiredness but he saw it right through. ‘Gosh…you alright?’

You think to yourself. Were you really alright? The answer was pretty obvious. You were ten weeks into your placement and your emotions were a jumbled up mess. Having to deal with work responsibilities was one problem, school assignments were another issue all together. At this point, you felt like you were just getting through each week for the sake of it.

At first, you believed that what you were going through was simply a transition to becoming an adult. You thought that naturally, you would be able to persevere through the stressful periods by yourself. But of course, it has been hard.

You were a social work intern at a neighborhood youth centre, thirty minutes away if you took the train and bus. The work was fulfilling in it’s own ways, but recently there were self-doubts filling your brain, if you were really cut out for the job in the future. If you weren’t, what else could you do?

As you sat with Shangqi in the school’s student-ran cafe, you found yourself pouring out the exact same concerns to him. Credit to him, Shangqi never interrupted your monologue, he just simply listened. That’s what best friends were for. That’s what you did for him to when he ran into issues with his family.

Even then, he couldn’t deny that hearing you doubt yourself broke his heart. He had known you since high school. You mostly kept to yourself and one or two close friends. Despite joining the school’s athletic team where you were one of the main athletes, you preferred to stay in the shadows unlike some of your teammates. That didn’t stop you from going out of your way to help other students in need; like helping the girl who was in an arm cast to copy the social studies notes, even if it meant you had to do it twice. Or maybe just talking to a friend who was stressed out about their results.

Basically, you had studied your ass off to get a secured spot at this university who were only one of the few that offered the degree. He remembers you telling him the moment you got your offer, ‘I’m finally good at something. I don’t have to worry anymore!’

Shangqi wasn’t stupid. The pandemic had done some crazy things. And by crazy, it affected the self-esteem that you had been working so hard on by participating in various projects and events, with you being in charge of a drama production that was promoting on mental health. That was a big deal considering that you were a major introvert.

Online engagement was never easy. In fact he has heard some of your struggles that you’ve shared with him regarding this and it only makes him admire you even more. For someone who preferred to keep to themselves, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, to take on a role that wasn’t just simply about helping people - that took guts.

‘I’m sorry I’m just loading you with all this. I just feel…’ You trailed off, suddenly becoming emotional again. Again, Shangqi does not pry. ‘That I can’t do anything right.’ You emphasize that you had ended the statement for you were unsure that you could keep your cool if you had tried to continue on.

‘If I hear you saying sorry another time,’ he chides, ‘you’re paying for our meal later.’ Your lips curved upwards slightly before returning to its somber position. Shangqi decides that a meal won’t cut it. He needs to deploy ‘Operation Y/N’. Standing up with your buzzer to collect the food, Shangqi whips out his phone. There will be a few changes for today.

Food was definitely a cure in this situation, but it was only a part of the solution. After inhaling your ramen at light speed, Shangqi tells you that today will be a different Friday. ‘And you can’t complain! It’ll be a weekend tmr,’ he tells you. So why not? You figured that even if you went back home early, your head wouldn’t be in the right place to complete the essay for your English module.

‘Hold up! The VR studio that Katy was talking about?’ You look at the tickets inside the taxi that was taking you and Shangqi to the location. ‘How did you even, it was so hard to get these tickets!’ From the time Shangqi met you outside the classroom, he had yet to see you so ecstatic. Until now.

‘Well,’ Shangqi gives his best shrug. ‘I called in a favor from a friend. Said that it was for emergency purposes.’ He raised his fingers to make connotations in the air much to your amusement.

‘Wow… just how much do I not know about you Mr Popular?’ You teased. Shangqi decides to leave the fact on him having to persuade the Wakandan Princess in giving him free tickets.

‘Please! I swear whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it! It’s for Y/N!’

‘Ey well why didn’t you say so? If it’s for that nice friend, of course!’ Shuri leaves the entrance of the compound, an exasperated Shangqi trailing behind.

Yeah, the VR studio that Katy told them about was also funded by King T’Challa himself. With stunning life like visuals thanks to Wakandan technology, the VR studio was located in a middle class neighborhood. T’Challa believed that no matter where kids came from, they should have the right to enjoy and to explore the world. For now, he wasn’t ready to share that he was on the way on becoming a full-fledged Avenger yet - you just had too much on your plate. He’ll just have to settle with this white lie.

‘Is Katy coming?’ You were on the verge of vibrating off your seat. ‘She would love this place!’ Even when you were struggling, Y/N still manages to think about other people. Today, Y/N will put her needs first.

As if to answer your previous question, you can see an equally excited Katy waiting for the two of you at the roundabout. ‘HEL-LO EVERYONE! LET’S GET OUR FRIDAY STARTED IN PROPER SHALL WE?’ Her loud voice had attracted stares, some very displeased looks too but at this point in time, you didn’t give a damn. Katy was right, it was time to enjoy!

You wished that you could slow down time, or even replay it continuously when you needed cheering up because the only thing you felt was pure happiness - euphoria even. Your stomach was in knots for laughing hysterically together with Katy when Shangqi jumped in shock from a surprise scare from a zombie. ‘I’m keeping that for leverage,’ she tells you, quietly slipping her phone into her fanny pack. 

The Wakandans had really outdone themselves this time. Your favorite VR was the paradise VR. Slipping the headgear, you say goodbye to the smiles of Katy and Shangqi, whisking away to a beach that oddly reminded you of your dream destination - Hawaii. From where you were standing, you were surrounded by green and majestic islands. Despite their sheer size, you weren’t intimidated. In fact, you were healing. 

Your mind was no longer in the room of the VR studio. How could it when the sun kissed your skin, giving you the much needed energy that you were lacking for so long? In the room, the two sees you kick your shoes to the side, going barefoot. It may have seem strange, but with the monitor beside you, your actions were perfectly logical. 

As a kid, you used to despise the prickly feeling of sand in between your toes. But now, you grew to love the sensation that each grain of sand had on your skin. It made you feel grounded, that everything was going to be ok. You raise your virtual hand to touch your face - were you crying? 

‘She must have been really stressed huh?’ Katy whispers to Shangqi who nods in return. How he hated the fact that you were giving so much to your work but still felt underappreciated. Forget the Avengers with superhuman abilities, you were the true MVP. The VR ends and you remove your headgear. ‘I’m ok,’ you automatically reassure them despite the dry tears left on both cheeks. You step down the platform slowly, trying to regain sense of the real world. 

What you didn’t expect was the two embracing you in a hug, squishing you in between them. Maybe that had set off the waterworks. For someone like Katy, she had sage advice.

‘Life can be pretty shitty right? But I’m so proud of you fighting it Y/N. Just remember that it’s ok to be weak. I mean, I’ve seen worse from Shangqi,’ she jabs her finger towards his direction, earning a glare from him. That’s Katy, always trying to add a bit of humor to this grey world. Calming down, you let go of the both of them. ‘Thanks guys, for everything.’ 

‘Hey,’ Shangqi responds, slinging his arm over your shoulder. ‘We’re friends, so we don’t leave each other behind.’ Phone beeping, he retrieves it to check the message. ‘And look at that, nice timing. Who wants Korean BBQ?’ 

Trailing behind them, you get an amusing view of Shangqi bickering with Katy on how many Soju bottles she’s allowed to order later. As San Francisco welcomed the night, you were just thankful that you had the two of them to walk through this crazy maze called life. 

‘Last one to the shop is paying!’ 

‘Oh you’re on Mister!’  

A/N: I really just think that this was also an imagine for me to cope too. So I can only hope to finish my placement/assignments/exams well! To anyone who does studies and work simultaneously, I fucking respect you (allow me to use expletives for now, these people deserve the respect). If you’re going through a stressful time, I hope this brings the slightest comfort for you and remember… YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Again, thank you for reading! 

#shang chi #xu shangqi #shangqi x reader #shangqi imagine #katy shang chi #shang chi x reader #shangqi #simu liu