#but depression and laziness are killers every time

[thenightling]

Willy Wonka misconceptions

As Charlie and the Chocolate Factory / Willy Wonka has become weirdly popular lately because of the successful prequel film and most recently that really botched / rip-off Wonka event in Glasgow Scotland, it felt like a good time for this post.

Here are a list of popular misconceptions about the book and films.

1. Much of the Internet thinks of Wonka as a "Serial killer of children." I pointed out that at the end of the 2006 film and novel you see the children alive, though altered. And in the 1971 film that version of Wonka says that they will all be fine, but a little wiser. Someone tried to argue with me that he was just trying to placate Charlie. Really!? Since when did that Wonka ever lie to make people feel better?

Based on his previous behavior we have no reason to believe Wonka would lie just to make Charlie feel better. It's just a dark, edgy, annoying headcanon to pretend Wonka killed those other kids when every version tells you they survived.

____________________________

2. Grandpa Joe was not "Faking it" or "being lazy." It seems ironic to me that so many rant and even get genuinely angry about the character Grandpa Joe. It is especially odd to me when the rage is in regard to the depiction in the 1971 film, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory.

The reason it is odd to me is because in the 1971 film Grandpa Joe very clearly was suffering through severe depression, possibly a long bipolar depression phase.

The depression is clear in his "I've got a golden Ticket" song.

"I never thought my life could be Anything but catastrophe"

"I never had a chance to shine Never a happy song to sing"

It seems weird to me that today people shame characters like Cinderella for not being assertive and empowered when she's a live-long abuse victim. And then you have the people against Disney's The Little Mermaid who say she gave up who and what she is for a man but ignore that she had a song number from before she ever saw Eric, where she expressed body dysphoria and made clear she wanted to be human even then.

And you have a large part of the Internet shaming Grampa Joe for being "lazy" and "faking being sick' while he's literally telling us that he he's been in a severe depression.

It's almost like watching a generation that supposedly respects mental illness and understands depression in ways previous generations didn't... suddenly having a justification to shame someone for having all the symptoms of clinical depression.

Hell, even the song "I've got a Golden Ticket" kind of indicates Grandpa Joe is entering a manic phase. If Grandpa Joe's illness is psychological why do we treat it as not-real? I get so annoyed at how many people mock the character or act like he's a con artist exploiting Charlie.

________________________

3. The Oompa Loompas were not slaves.

It's true that the earliest depictions of the Oompa Loompas were little African people (before the novel was revised) but in all versions he tells the kids that he pays them in coca-beans. That might sound like he pays them in fallen acorns he found in his garden but it's made clear that to Oompa Loompas, in their society, coca-beans are worth more than gold.

Try to imagine you got a job working for aliens who offer to pay you in large bars of gold if you just help him make some gold jewelry. But because gold isn't worth THAT much to these aliens they think you're a pathetic slave, even though Lofty (the Oompa Loompa from the new Wonka movie) probably now has a palace on Loompa Land that he uses as a summer house.

Interesting bit of trivia: Charlie was originally going to be black.

___________________________

4. Wonka (2023) is NOT a remake. A lot of people mistakenly think this is yet another remake. No. It's a musical prequel to the Gene Wilder Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory movie from 1971. ________________________

5. Lots of fans have "figured out" that the shoe shine boy Wonka sees early in Wonka is Charlie. One small problem with that. This is twenty-something Willy Wonka. Wonka was supposed to be pushing fifty or sixty when he went looking for an heir. The timeline wouldn't work. The director has confirmed that for this reason the shoe shine boy is NOT Charlie Bucket.

And there you go. A list of popular Wonka misconceptions debunked.

#Willy Wonka #Wonka #Charlie and the Chocolate Factory #Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

[tadashisdisaster]

"Hey! It's me again, I'm back. Let's talk ASAP"

ANYWAYS hope ur doing well and healthy. Love you and your writing.

But I wanted to ask if you could write an skz member x y/n angst fic based off of skz's song, Sorry, I Love You. This is my first time actually requesting a fic so I'm trying not to make it awkward😭😭😭

But hope your day/night is going well so far!

-🌻

CWˏˋ°•*⁀➷    alcohol abuse, depression, one sided love, small stalking p, obsessive behavior, lonely, y/n is dating someone other than the ! Ot8 members, dark content, let me know if I forgot anything else🤍

AN~ ASAP baby, hurry up don’t be lazy. Aaah I love New Jeans’ new album so much! And don’t worry this wasn’t awkward. My first time making skz angst, or any angst on here! Hope you like it🖤🤍🖤

¡! ❞ 3rd grade sweet heart You had been his crush ever since you (quite literally) stomped into their life. Wearing red converses, jean shorts, toothy grin, baggy white t-shirt with a smiley face in the middle and your favorite fish hairpin. ‘Woah’ was all he thought. His cute third grade crush became his best friend, and soon first love.

¡! ❞ Rejection He had confessed his feelings to you while you were sleeping over. “Y/n, I uh, I like you…” you stare blankly at his face then laugh and throw a chip at his face. “HAH! Stop messing around. We’re like siblings, that would be weird.” You look at the t.v completely shutting him down.

¡! ❞ Mr.perfect isn’t so perfect “Meet my boyfriend! Ji-hoon.” You proudly say. Ji-hoon gives him a smirk and offers his hand to shake. “N/n has told me a lot about you. It’s really nice to finally meet n/n’s older brother!” The way he emphasized brother, really pissed him off. He reluctantly shook his hand. “Woah, killer grip you got there.”

¡! ❞ Hurt You come to his house soaking wet and in tears. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong y/n?” You sob about how unfair life was and asked him why ji-hoon had cheated on you. You cry, making him a bit angry. Why were you so upset over someone other than him…?

¡! ❞ lonely You had found another boyfriend, leaving him to drown in his sorrows. Beer and soju bottles littered the floor. He scrolls through your social media page, the only light in the room seemed to be the phone and your smile through the screen. He felt numb, all he did was cry and drink. You looked so happy, without him…? Where you happier without him?

¡! ❞ Stalker stalker With a little help from your posts, he had found out where you lived. He shaves his face and showers. He grabs a black mask and hat and leaves his home. He missed you so bad. He pulls up to the outside of your apartment. Watching you happily walk hand and hand with your new lover. He grips his steering wheel wishing it was him with you instead. He drives up to you apartment every day, hoping you do and don’t see him.

¡! ❞ Like old times! He finally gets the guts to call you and ask if you wanted to hand out. “They released that movie you always liked when we were kids. It’s back in theaters.” You gasp and squeal, “NO WAY REALLY! how does 5pm sound!?” He chuckles “sure…sleep well y/n.”

¡! ❞ Let you go!? But how? You had been hanging out like you used to. Casual late night talks. He’s trying hard to accept the one sided love, but finds it so hard. His heart aches listening to you laugh on the other end of the phone, then abruptly saying goodbye, leaving him for your now fiancé. “Night!” Sometimes he cry’s himself to sleep, sometimes he doesn’t. But it still hurts. He tried going on dates. But that never seemed to work. He drives to your shared favorite spot, a beautiful hill covered in flowers of different colors. He lays down in the field “I’m sorry I love you y/n…” little did he know, you felt the same, but never told him because you felt it was too late.

#tadashisdisaster #❕khai’s queue #skz smut #skz angst #angst #bangchan skz #seungmin skz #lee know skz #han jisung skz #lee Felix skz #jeongin skz #Changbin skz #hyunjin skz #bang chan smut #seungmin smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #felix smut #jeongin smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #bangchan fluff #seungmin fluff #lee know fluff #han jisung fluff #felix fluff #jeongin fluff #changbin fluff #hyunjin fluff #skz fluff

[tangerinesgf]

Missed you

Tangerine x GN!reader

Summary: you're having a though day, Tangerine helps you through it.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Depression, some fluff, Tangerine is the best bf (think that's about it)

Disclaimer: English is not my first language and its not proofread so sorry for any mistakes.

A/N: You ever have those moments where you can't stop thinking about Tangerine? Well I guess that's how this thing came to exist. Also I needed to vent.

Before you and Tangerine started dating, you'd told him about your depression. Clinical depression to be more specific.

In the time you and Tangerine spend together you had fallen head over heals for him. His looks were partially the reason for that, obviously, but what really drew you in was everything else about him. The way he acted, talked, moved. They way he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on.

The fact that beneath that ruthless contract killer was this soft guy who loved cuddling and head rubs. Although he'd never admit that out loud.

Being with Tangerine was the happiest you had been in a long time.

You felt the dread building up in your stomach when you had to tell him, expecting him to leave afterwards. Most people found a partner with depression too much work and not worth the trouble.

Not Tangerine though.

He'd been on your side the minute you told him, telling you he could never leave you.

"There's nothin' you could say that would make me leave you, darlin'"

A wave of relief had rushed over you, tears starting to well up in your eyes resulting into Tangerine pulling you into his arms.

Ever since that moment you'd been there for every up and down, never once leaving each others side.

This week had been harder for you than others. Not for any specific reason that you could explain unfortunatly. That was the part you hated the most. The 'being sad or angry for no particular reason'.

Your therapist had said that it was normal in your situation, that it wasn't just you being lazy or dramatic.

You hadn't really come out of bed the entire week except for food or to use the bathroom.

Normally Tangerine would have quite literally dragged you out of your bed even if it was to the living room just for a change of scenery. He'd cook your favorite food, while you sat and watched him.

Unfortunately Tangerine was on a job this week, so there's was none of that. He'd told you repeatedly that you could always call him even if he was on a job, but you still felt like you would be disturbing him.

You were watching some show you lost track of hours ago when you heard the front door opening, followed by a pair of footsteps entering the apartment.

You heard him walk around for a while before there was a nock on your door.

"Luv? It's me, are you in there?" Tangerine's soft voice spoke from the other side of the door. Gosh, you had missed him so much.

"Yeah, you can come in" you answered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Tangerine opened the door leaning into the doorframe.

"Hey" he said softly.

You could see his eyes darting around the room taking it in. Not having had the energy to clean this week ut had become quite the mess.

"Hi" you gave him a soft smile.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you in which Tangerine came to understand that it had been on of those weeks and he hadn't been there for you.

He pushed himself from the doorframe and slowly walked over to where you were sitting on your bed.

"You know you could've called me, right?" He almost whispered as he moved a strand of hair out of face and placed it behind you ear. Your eyes never losing contact with one another.

"I know." Was all you said.

Another beat of silence before Tangerine spoke up again.

"You wanna talk 'bout it?"

"Not really."

All you wanted to do right now was just being with him.

"Want me to leave you alone?"

He figured getting you out of bed could wait until tomorrow, after all he didn't really have the energy for it right now either.

"No!" You said almost immediately, the slight raise of your voice taking both of you by surprise.

"I mean.. please stay."

Tangerine's eyes softened and he pulled you into his lap to hold you in that same way he had done almost a year ago now. Your head rested on his shoulder as he stared to draw soothing circles on your lower back.

You drew back from his embrace so you could meet his eyes.

"I missed you"

Tangerine leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead after which he pulled you into his chest again.

"Missed you too, darlin'" he said just above a whisper. "You're gonna be alright."

His hand started to caress through your hair as you drew him impossibly closer to you.

"You're gonna be alright."

A/N: this is my first time finishing/ posting any sort of reader fanfic and I wrote this in like an hour so any feedback is always appreciated. <3

Taglist: @avocado-writing @venusthepirate @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @waiting4ff (just tagged sm people I thought would be interested)

#tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #tangerine

[themediummultiverseau]

Will papyrus ever be included in the storyline, maybe sans opening up to him about it, or he gets suspicious about sans's behavior and corners him or something?

Aaaand are there any prominent side characters that we'll see?

Papyrus notices that his brother has been leaving the house more, and at first, hes overjoyed! Sans was finally leaving the house! But, he realised after a while, that he always dodged the question as to where he was going. (Sans, being the secretive little fuck that he is, refuses to tell anyone about the ghosts.) Worried, Papyrus follows him one day, only to find him walking al the way to the park. And then he just stops, and starts talking to air.

Papyrus is CONCERNED (tm,) and goes back home to wait for Sans to come home. It takes him HOURS to come back, (he visits everyone he can,) and, when confronted, he once again try to avoid the questions.

Papyrus says he followed him, saw him talking to air, and was considering getting him professional help, his depression had been bad before, and if he was starting to see things now as well...

Sans is forced to tell the truth.

And he does. For the next few hours they sit and talk about the ghosts. Papyrus want to believe him, really, he does! But he cant help but still be worried, so says takes his phone out and googles "Nightmare - Prince" and shows him the results. He then goes through the lot of them, showing death reports, news articles, anything that appears really, and Papyrus finally believes him.

From then on, he insists Sans takes something for them every time he visits, and often makes them food to give (more often that not, its spaghetti,) and asks how they're doing. Sometimes, they go and Sans acts as a medium, for them, so Papyrus and the ghosts can talk directly.

Killer and Dream especially take a liking to him, while Dust is pretty scared of him (he looks way to much like his won brother its actually scary,) and always ask how he is when Sans comes without him.

Side characters.. It depends what you mean by that.

Every Sans you could ever want can exist here, they just might not haunt the town,

(i got lazy when drawing here, so its just a messy sketch but yk)

(Red - shot, epic - shrapnel, Fresh - car crash, Outer - fell)

Alternatively, most of the ghosts had family members, most of them had a Papyrus look alike, (Papyrus isn't reincarnated here, but every Sans deserves a Papyrus, even fate believes it so)

(Nim (Dream and Nightmares mother, Queen), Phantom (Dusts brother,) Horror had lots of siblings, ect...)

Buuut, while many of the original Undertale cast have been spread out throughout the years, Toriel, Chara and Frisk are all based in the present time.

Toriel, after the death of her son, adopts two kids, twins, who were considered "difficult" children, (really there were disabled, but why would they care about that, - Chara has some mental issues, and Frist is mute and has sight problems.) They're lovely kids , and they visit quite regularly, typically with their mother. Sans was named their Godfather (Papyrus was considered, but he told them Sans was a better choice, ) because Toriel knew he'd love them.

Sans and Toriel met at a comedy gig, both preforming on the same day, and became friends instantly over their shared love of stupid puns. (They're not together, this universe has no canonical relationships, everyting's platonic here, but ships are totally allowed and welcome if you wanted lol.)

Holy moly, that was a lot of work lmao, would you believe it, i dont think ive ever actually drawn Papyrus before? I have no idea why, just havent, ill have to do more so in the future cus hes fun.

Ive also never tried to draw anyone from the angle Sans is at in the first drawing, think it looks fine as long as you ignore the feet lol.

No, i didnt get lazy drawing the ghost in the first, it was a stylistic choice! /j /sarcasm, also, Hi, im Whisp, i hate backgrounds!)

Please excuse me attempt at drawing a wimple for Nim and the tricorned hat for Phantom, they're very difficult!

All of Horrors siblings there don't have names, they were just designed on the spot really, so if anyone has and names for them, ill take them on board!

But hope it all looks okay, this is all full of firsts lol. Have a lovely day everyone! :)

#sans au #undertale multiverse #undertale art #undertale au #undertale #bad sanses #classic sans #classic papyrus #papyrus #sans #undertale frisk #undertale chara #dreamtale au #dreamtale nim #dusttale papyrus #fell sans #fresh sans #outer sans #epic sans #horror sans #dust sans #cross sans #nightmare sans #killer sans #bad sans gang #MMAU #askthemmau TheMediumMultiverseAU

[lemony-snickers]

hi lemony. Hoping u could take my request.

Are you in a mood for angst? it doesn't matter what the plot is. im just really looking for some angsty fics of Kakashi x fem reader.

hello, my dear.  thank you for stopping by & i hope you are doing well!  now, you sent this right after 🏳️‍🌈 anon sent this song to my inbox.  i know now they didn’t intend for this to be a request, but at the time, i thought they did.

i hope neither of you mind that i’ve combined these two into one little ditty with a gender-neutral MC.  <3

here is a link to the song in case anyone would like to listen to it.

Title:  Cursed  (AO3 Link Here) Summary:  Kakashi Hatake knows he is cursed even if not everyone can see it. Word Count:  3,344 (that includes the lyrics and i’m too lazy to see what it is without them as;ldfjd forgive me) Warnings:  gn!MC, mentions of suicide, references to depression and death, some suggestive language .

There's a fire in my brain and I'm burning up Oh my, oh my Keep running for the sink but the well is dry Oh my, oh my

Kakashi changes after his team falls apart.  His posture is too straight—his jaw too tight.  Even with the mask on, it’s obvious he’s always grinding his teeth.

Though he tries his best to let the cruel and cutting words roll off him—Friend-Killer, Cold-Blooded, Murderer—they settle over his skin like a painful exoskeleton of preconceived notions.  It is a comfort in some ways because he knows no one will ever bother to look beyond it.

Someone does, though, even if he doesn’t notice right away.

They don’t see him crying in the night, don’t watch him rush to the kitchen sink to scrub the persistent, imagined blood from his fingers, but they know Kakashi suffers in the wake of Rin’s death.  They visit her grave, make small offerings.  They hope seeing the evidence of someone else mourning will remind Kakashi he is not alone.

He sees the flowers over Rin’s name and feels alone anyway.

Every word I say is kindling But the smoke clears when you're around Won't you stay with me, my darling When my walls start burning down, down, down?

Kakashi is too good at what he does—too precise and neat and dedicated to his craft.  It might be a more admirable trait if his trade were not plied in violence.  He buries himself in it, dives elbow-deep into the viscera of his enemies just so he doesn’t have to remember what is waiting for him at home.

Or rather, what isn’t.

Slowly, he realizes there is a comrade who sticks a little closer, that they linger after all the reports have been filed, sit next to him in the locker room.  Their efforts pay off when his gaze begins to slide over to them increasingly often.

It’s a silent sort of companionship; the distant warmth of another shoulder or the soft clearing of a throat across the room.

Still, it anchors Kakashi a little on the worst of days.  He lashes out at them sometimes, cutting words flung like kunai across a hallway when they stand a little close.

But they only smile in response and hope the fog in his brain lifts a little at the edges.

This house says my name like an elegy Oh my, oh my Echoing where my ghosts all used to be Oh my, oh my

Kakashi knows he can’t stay here.  He sleeps in the barracks more often than his own bed already, which leaves plenty of fodder for gossip.  But there are ghosts in the Hatake Estate and he is tired of trying to outrun them.  No matter where he sleeps, they creep in between the crevices, the cracks in the wood.

Always find him.

So he shutters his childhood home, as if he is winterizing a vacation house.  He has no plans to return to it, no reason to ever go back.

He finds a bare-bones apartment, a single room with space enough for a large bed.  He needs it so the dogs will have a place to sleep when he summons them in the night, when the terror seizes his chest and he wakes clutching at a pounding heart, afraid he is about to die.

He knows he won’t, though; dying would be far too great a mercy for a man like Kakashi.

And he’s always received plenty of attention.  Men and women offering to keep his bed warm by his side, to provide some much-needed relief on extended missions.

He turns most of them down.  But the one he doesn’t is a mistake because this person knows him too well, knows when he is hiding.  They’ve been standing too close for years and they keep looking at him.

Now they draw maps across his body with their teeth like they are marking him.

Like he is theirs even if they know he will never allow them such a claim.

It is a dangerous thing, Kakashi knows, to think you belong to another person.

Other people die.  They break.

But they promise him they won’t—that they are strong enough to withstand whatever agony he might thrust upon them.  It doesn’t stop him from trying, though.  His words are cruel, his actions sometimes more so.  But every time he returns from a mission, they crawl into bed beside him and allow him to take his fill without complaint.

They hold him afterward, kiss his temple, even though they know come morning, he will shove them away.

Kakashi doesn’t dream so much when he’s with them.  It’s almost as if they know a secret for keeping the ghosts at bay.

There's still cobwebs in the corners And the backyard's full of bones Won't you stay with me, my darling When this house don't feel like home? When this house don't feel like home?

Despite his best efforts, the apartment never feels like home.  In desperation, Kakashi returns to the Hatake Clan’s farmhouse searching for that feeling of belonging somewhere he has missed for so long.

The floors are dusty, the closest ruled by spiders, each room achingly empty.

He stands in the place where he found his father’s body, curls his toes against the tatami mats, so fresh and new compared to those around them.  He knows if he lifts them up, there will be a dark stain in the wood beneath that he could never quite scrub out.

And he wonders if one day his fate might be the same.  If he remains so untethered to his life, will he return here to find peace and purpose in a blade?

After he leaves the house, he takes an unfamiliar path through Konoha.

It is the first time he visits another person’s bed.  Though their body is second nature to him, now, the surroundings are strange.  It’s exhilarating and beautiful—like a vacation from his existence, even if it is only a single evening.

They are surprised when he climbs through the window.  This person who has followed him for so long, waited patiently for him, given of themselves to him without receiving anything in kind—they jump when he steps onto their floor.

But in an instant, their shock fades to elation and then concern.

“Is everything okay?”

It isn’t, but he nods.  “Fine,” he says, closing the distance slowly; like a predator.  His gaze is intense, both pupils tracing the lines of their face as he approaches.

“How did you know where I live?”

He wants to laugh.  Admit he’s known for years where to find them at any given moment; they are like a beacon—a landmark he cannot escape even when he wants to.

Kakashi isn’t sure he wants to anymore.

He never answers their question, knows that doing so would reveal too much of his own feelings.  Instead, he squeezes the last centimeters of air from between their bodies and claims the feeling of belonging he has so desperately been searching for without remorse.

They are more than happy to oblige.

Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust The devil's after both of us Oh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of me

Kakashi should have known his penance would come in the form of flesh.  The children assigned to him—the delicate lives balanced on his palms—reflect so acutely back at him.

Obito, Itachi, Minato-sensei, even Rin.

The ghosts are back, he realizes.  He never should have expected to outrun them forever.

He throws himself forcibly into the role of teacher.  He’s not very good at first, but he thinks he finds his footing eventually.

And after a long, cold while, there is warmth in his bed again—that same familiar person drawing maps.  He tells them in a post-coital haze one night that he is cursed.  That the eyes of Sasuke and Naruto, Sakura’s misplaced optimism, are his penitence for failing those who came before.

“That isn’t true,” they whisper, “you don’t owe anyone your contrition, not even the dead.”

He shrugs them off, then, even as they try to drag him back under the haze, under the blankets.  But he showers instead, tells them gruffly they should be gone before he’s done.

They have never denied Kakashi anything he’s asked of them, and this time is no different.

When Kakashi walks back into the bedroom to find it empty—their clothes gone from the floor, shoes no longer by the door—he is disappointed.

As their scent fades in the cool night air, drifting lazily out his open window, Kakashi realizes he should have asked them to stay.  Knows they would have if he had.

Maybe he is not cursed after all, he thinks, maybe he is the curse.

This tired old machine is a-rumbling Oh my, oh my Singing songs to the secrets behind my eye Oh my, oh my

He pushes them away.  How could he not?

Kakashi has failed in every role he’s ever taken—student, commander, son, friend, sensei.  How could he risk also falling short of lover?

It’s unfair, and so he stops playing coy with his distance.  Instead of feigning disinterest, he shoves it at them.  They arrive at his door and he slams it closed so quickly it hits their nose.  He avoids their gaze when he sees their black eyes the next day, but they still wave at him.  Still smile in his direction.

Subtle, heartfelt promises that everything is okay.

Kakashi does not understand why.

He wants to apologize, to hold their face between his hands and tell them it was an accident.  Yes, he meant to close the door, but he was too distracted to realize they’d taken a step forward.

It’s just another example of his curses; everyone who gets close to him is lying unawares in the path of a tsunami.  His disastrous lack will drown them one day.

They don’t mind treading water while they wait for him to be ready.

Kakashi watches Naruto disappear off with Jiraiya, pushes Sakura to train with Tsunade, and allows Gai to lose himself in his students.  All while he himself retreats from the bonds he’s forged.  He is cruel to his comrades so they will no longer invite him out for drinks after a mission.  He keeps his window closed so no one will appear in it uninvited, asking if they can climb into bed next to him as they have countless times before.

And they recognize the distance for what it is—the grieving of a broken man—but they do not push.  They watch him carefully from a distance, as they once did, content to keep a watchful eye out for any changes; to return to his side the moment he requires it.

Kakashi summons his ninken when he sleeps and they crowd around him, lie over his chest.  It’s suffocating, but familiar.  A comfort against the ceaseless darkness of his dreams.

The sharingan remembers everything it has ever seen, and it replays his failures in cruel clarity.  Even those events for which he did not yet possess the eye seem to rewind themselves behind his lids as he sleeps, a blistering montage of the worst moments of his life.

There are someone else’s flowers on Rin’s grave.  He sweeps them off and crushes the blooms underfoot.

Still, they bring more flowers and lay them over the stone.  Say a prayer for the living as well as the dead.

All my aching bones are trembling And I may yet fall apart Won't you stay with me, my darling When the war starts in my heart? When the war starts in my heart?

Kakashi is prepared to die in the war.  Part of him, he thinks, might welcome such a thing.  The hope that he will not have to endure any more losses, that perhaps he can sacrifice himself to save the students he has failed so miserably, pushes him forward.  Soothes his anxiety.

And so does the familiar whisper of a voice against his ear one evening as they prepare their battle plans.

The invitation he offers in return which is accepted.

They have waited so long for him to be ready and even if it’s only a brief moment, they leap at the opportunity.

Their body is warm and familiar, their teeth just as demanding and sharp as they have ever been.  And Kakashi gives himself over to them, seeks his pleasure only distantly.  What he really needs, tonight of all nights, is someone to hold him afterward; guard him against the approaching dawn.

He doesn’t say this, of course.  Instead, his hands are rough and his voice level when he says, “Just this once.  Just in case this is the end.”

“Of course,” they say, “this can’t happen again.”

He groans, pushing forward, forcing them down onto the mattress beneath him.  They welcome his weight with a chorus of sighs, pulling him close.

Kakashi knows they are right—they both are.  There are so many reasons this is a mistake.  He does not need another person relying on him, cannot stand the idea of letting yet another precious person down.  But their voice makes him shiver, and the way their hands smooth over his body so lovingly stirs something primal in him; some need to be cared for.  To love.

They try to carve their affection into his skin—like the bruises and lines left by their nails might be enough to make Kakashi finally accept that he is worthy of them.  They tell him how good it feels to be with him again and every word is a sacred truth.

Kakashi smothers the instinct to be soft and buries himself in lies as well as their body, takes what he can while giving so little it is a miracle they can take from him at all.

They find plenty to take for themselves, even if Kakashi does not realize it.  He is more open here than anywhere else, more readable.  Every word he’s never uttered with his mouth is said with his body, read clearly in his eyes.  But they know he is not ready for the things he can’t say, so they keep those secrets closely guarded, even from their originator.

And after, they kiss his temple and run their fingers through his hair.  He tells them he is a curse and they laugh, the sound vibrating against Kakashi’s ear from somewhere deep in their chest.

“If that’s true, Kakashi, then I’m happy to be cursed.”

They shouldn’t be, but he’s glad.

Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust The devil's after both of us Oh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of me

Kakashi reels in the weeks and months following the war.  The revelation of Obito, the return of Sasuke, the near-death of Gai.

It’s all too much.  He buries himself in rebuilding alliances, strengthening them.  He does not want to be made Hokage, but he knows the other options are limited and some of them are offensive.  Regardless, duty dictates he accept the position and so he does.

Besides, he thinks, it will give him purpose.  And it is clear he cannot live without something like that.  He knows without being a commander and a sensei over the preceding years, he likely would have returned to the room where his father died long ago to join him.

There is a familiar presence as he prepares for his inauguration.  Almost imperceptible to anyone but him.

Always close, but never intruding.  Ever supportive and available, but hardly seen or heard unless specifically requested.

The entire process of taking office is horrific—the false smiles and lavish dinners.  It’s everything Kakashi has never wanted.

Once he’s officially Hokage, he buries himself in paperwork to avoid meeting dignitaries as often as possible.  He works himself ragged just trying to keep his head above water.  He can’t stop thinking it should be Obito, not him, wearing the robes.

He receives a visitor one evening, someone who knows that arriving unannounced on the wrong night will invite derision.  But they do it anyway because it’s obvious how exhausted he is, how much he has denied himself the rest he needs.

The same person who watched Kakashi grind his teeth after Rin died watches him do the same beneath the heavy brim of the Rokudaime’s hat and they know they must intervene on his behalf.

“Hokage-sama?”

Their voice is like honey dripping into tea—smooth and sweet.  When he looks up from the budget reports he’s been glaring at for half the day, Kakashi finds a familiar figure standing before his desk with takeout in hand.

“Did I request a meeting?” he asks, genuinely baffled and assuming he did but forgot about it.

They only let the apparent rebuff glance off one shoulder before they recover fully.  “No, Sir, but I thought maybe you could use some company.”

It starts like that—begins again, really.  They share late-night meals and swap conversation.

Slowly, Kakashi starts expecting their visits without feeling guilty for doing so.

And they, in turn, start looking forward to them without feeling selfish.

One night, they go home together.  And then every night after, they do the same.

Kakashi watches his students forge their paths, find happiness in their families and fulfillment in their careers.  He watches Sasuke make as many amends as he is able, and hopes that will be enough.

Gai recovers as well as he can and even a crippled leg cannot stop him from seeing only the best in the world around him; even the loss of Neji does not dull his enthusiasm for long.  Because he has always known there are always other students to support, other friends in need of his boundless love.

Kakashi thinks for the first time maybe home does not have to be a place without ghosts.  Maybe with enough help, he can learn to live amongst them.

Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust Tell me I am good enough Oh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of…

Us.

It’s a strange word, still; heavy and awkward on Kakashi’s tongue when he says it.  But slowly growing more familiar as he uses it in his daily life.

“I’ll pick up groceries for us on the way home.”

“Gai invited us to dinner.”

“Naruto has asked us to watch Himawari.”

Every time he says something mundane about the life they have managed to build together, his partner beams.  They know it has been a difficult road; that life handed Kakashi a harsh path to follow.

That he has done so and chosen them to remain at his side as he continues to brush the cobwebs of his past away from his periphery, is a feat worthy of every accolade.  Never something to be taken for granted.

The house Kakashi grew up in slowly fills with new memories.  And though the ghosts never truly leave, they quiet themselves a little.  Perhaps that is because Gai’s voice is loud enough to drown them out, or maybe because there seems to always be a shoulder next to Kakashi’s radiating warmth instead of a deathly chill.

Either way, the house changes and he is glad he’s given it another chance.

As they lie next to Kakashi, they turn to look at him in the deepening dark.

“Do you still feel like you’re cursed?” they ask.

Kakashi isn’t sure how to answer.  Doesn’t know for certain whether the curse of him could ever really be lifted.

But they are here, beside him, so even if it’s still there, it feels a little lighter.

He kisses their temple the way they do for him when he wakes from a nightmare.  He never answers aloud, but they understand what he wants them to.  And they are happy to spend the rest of their days proving to Kakashi Hatake that he is not a cursed man.

#lemony scribbles #kakashi hatake #gn!reader #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi angst #third person pov #angst #angst with a happy ending #song fic #tw depression #tw suicide mention #tw death #tw suggestive #it's not really a reader insert but work with me here okay a;ldskfjasfd

[oopsifuckedmylifeup]

The Silent Killer

I don't even know how to put in words the feelings i feel. a lot of the times its numbness. Loneliness. Exhaustion. I have no motivation for my job anymore. I have no free time to myself, not with my kids having mental disabilities. Each child the complete opposite but still challenging in their own way. My depression is slowly growing bigger and darker taking over every aspect of my life and slowly drowning me in darkness.

People call me lazy because i literally cannot get myself out of bed and when i do the house is still a mess. i am doing everything i can to survive. but sometimes that doesn't feel like enough.

I'm trying to keep my head above water but the pay for a preschool teacher is not ideal, especially for a single parent of two kids with high demands. i worry if ill be able to buy them snow boots or snow coats. i worry if the food we have will stretch until the next time we get what little food stamps we get. My whole paycheck goes to bills and gas so there isn't much left for food.

Those intrusive thoughts keep coming to mind, to just end it all. The kids will be just fine with their grandparents. They don't need you, you cant even provide for them yourself. You wont be tired if you're dead. All your troubles will be gone if you just end it now.

I try not to let them get to me but some days are just harder than others.

this isn't me asking for money this is me venting. I'm broke. I am a single parent. i have severe depression, panic disorder, anxiety, ADHD, PTSD who knows what else.

I am tired. I am about to give up. I am alone in this world raising two kids and working full time and it is so fucking hard. I've become this cold bitter person that i don't even recognize anymore. Nothing makes me smile, nothing makes me laugh. I'm numb.

I really am not asking for money but if you do want to help out every little bit counts my cashapp is ashleydonna26

sorry for my depressing post i am just really not in a good place right now mentally and i don't see myself getting out of it for a while.

Lots of love

Ashley

#depressing post #depression #venting #mental health #life #burnout #overwhelmed #struggle #mentally fucked #actually mentally ill #mental illness #challenging kids #scuicidal #tw scuicidal thoughts #love me #what do i do #someone help #please help #i hate it #i hate my life #i hate this #i hate it here #love #bisexaul #sexy nerd #witch #witchcraft #preschoolteacher #teacher #motherhood

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hi, may I ask for a matchup? Thank u in advance and don't overwork yourself.

Fandom(s) don't matter, I know most of them so please match me with whoever you see fitting (maybe preferred fandoms are mha and demon slayer but only because I'm rewatching them).

I'm Varya (Varvara), almost 19 y.o., a cisgender straight Russian she/her Capricorn (although I don't believe in astrology). 39 kg/157 cm, I'm anorexic bc of body problems. Luckily, it's not visible since I have some curves. People say I have some Turkish blood in me judging from my appearance. Short straight hair with bangs and black eyes.

Personality-wise, I'm a toxic bitch. Manipulative, I know my worth, and I want to be better than anyone (sometimes this saddens me bc whatever I start doing, is mastered in no time and people around me get depressed. it just... happens ig, I'm a bunch of talent). Most people, if they try to get to know me, think I'm adorable and charming, strangers see me as an Ice Queen. I have a love-hate psycho relationship with myself. Somehow a gentlewoman, but politeness is only worth for people who deserve it, not only bc they're "older" or things like that.

Tbh, I don't have dreams, hobbies, and likes anymore. Well, even during childhood I've never had those. Maybe u can say that video games (shooters, rpg, strategies) and drawing entertain me the most rn but I feel even those things are slowly fading away.

The thing I dislike is being under control. My mom and ex controlled me so much.

In a nutshell, I think I'm a depressed person with God syndrome, bored around others bc I find them overall stupid. Only police and laziness, aloofness keeps me from becoming a serial killer.

lol

Hi Varya! Thank you for your request! I decided to go with My Hero Academia and Demon Slayer since you're rewatching them. Let me know if you'd like matchups with other fandoms. I hope you like your matchups!

In My Hero Academia, I match you with...

Aizawa doesn't really mind that you're manipulative. He's been through his fair share of students that have tried to sway him towards giving them good marks. He's seen every form of manipulation there is.

Does like that you know your worth. I see Aizawa as someone who makes jokes about how useless he is but actually knows his value.

Aizawa won't try to control you. Yes, he'll make suggestions if you're going to do something he thinks is unadvisable. But if you want to go ahead and do it anyway, he won't stop you. Unless you're breaking any major laws. Please don't do that.

Totally gets only being polite to people when they deserve it. He's exactly the same.

He'd be secretly honoured if you show politeness towards him because it means you respect him. But a the same time, he wouldn't respect himself if he was in your shoes so he gets it if you're less polite towards him.

Will keep you from becoming a serial killer. He's basically a super-powered police officer anyway. He doesn't particularly want to arrest you but he'll do it if it's warranted.

In Demon Slayer, I match you with...

Similarly to Aizawa, Rengoku's someone who won't try to control you. He's all about freedom and letting people do what they want. At the same time, don't hurt any of his friends.

Expect him to display a new hobby to you every week until you show interest in one. He's all for hobbies and he's got a long list to go through.

Won't reproach you too harshly if you do end up killing someone (please don't actually do this). His job is killing demons, things that were once humans, so he feels a bit hypocritical tell you off for doing basically the same thing.

He'll match your politeness level. If you're being rude to him, he's dishing it back. If you're being more polite, he's being polite. Most of the time, he tries to stay in your good books.

Another one who appreciates that you know your worth. He's seen a lot of demon slayers that question themselves and it's lead to their death. If you don't doubt yourself, he knows you'll be fine.

#writing #fanfic #matchup #matchup request #request #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #shota aizawa #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #rengoku kyojuro

[alicraft336]

Bad Sanses + Crescent, Angst & Merciless: Nicknames For Each Other

Characters (& their creators): Nightmare is made by jokublog, Dust is made by ask-dusttale, Horror is made by sour-apple-studios, Killer is made by rahafwabas, Crescent is made by lunnar-chan, Angst is made by naomiisenju, & Merciless I have no idea who he's made by

Warning: Cursing (even though it only happened once) & Cringy Nicknames

-Positive!Nightmare and Corrupted!Nightmare are not the same person; they just share the same body. Unless said otherwise it's Positive!Nightmare who's dating the reader, Corrupted!Nightmare is just there, basically being a third wheel. They somewhat get along because they kind of have to. Positive!Nightmare goes by Night well Corrupted!Nightmare goes by Corrupt or Mare

-Crescent, Angst and Merciless Nightmare is different from the one I mentioned above, there version of him is just a dick

-These are just my headcanon's as to what these characters would call you.

≿━━━━━━━━༺💕༻━━━━━━━━≾ 

Nightmare:

His for you: Moonlight, My Love/Love, My Dear/Darling, My Queen (he'll call you 'My Queen' no matter your gender identity), Princess/Prince

Yours for him: King Octopus or just Octopus, Nootmare/Noot Noot, Nighty, My King

≿━━━━━━━━༺🌑༻━━━━━━━━≾  Dust:

His for you: Hun, Sweetie/Sweetheart, last shred of my sanity, Babe

Yours for him: Dusty, Dust Bunny or just Bunny, Lazy mother MF (as a joke)

≿━━━━━━━━༺👻༻━━━━━━━━≾  Horror:

His for you: Honeybun or just Honey, Bunny, Sweetie Pie, Love, Sweetie

Yours for him: Love Bug, Teddy Bear

≿━━━━━━━━༺🍴༻━━━━━━━━≾  Killer:

His for you: Love/Loveliest, Darling/Dear, Hun, Honey, Sweetie/Sweetheart, Babe, Hot Stuff, (he's probably used every nickname you could call a lover at least once)

Yours for him: Killz, Mr. Flirt, Babe

≿━━━━━━━━༺🔪༻━━━━━━━━≾  Crescent:

His for you: He's not that big on nicknames and prefers to use your real name, if he's going to use a nickname for you he'll just use one he knows you've been called by for a while

Yours for him: Cres, Emo Boi/Depressed Boi (it switches between those two depending on the day, he hates them both but he knows you ain't wrong)

≿━━━━━━━━༺🌙༻━━━━━━━━≾  Angst:

His for you: like Crescent; he's not that big on nicknames and prefers to use your real name, but every once in a while he'll call you Love

Yours for him: as I've said, he's not that big on nicknames so just call him by his name, if you want to give him a nickname he won't say no but he prefers for you to use his name

≿━━━━━━━━༺🌷༻━━━━━━━━≾  Merciless:

His for you: Mine, My Love/Love, My Dear/My Dearest, My Queen (like NootNoot; he'll call you 'My Queen' no matter your gender identity), Princess/Prince

Yours for him: he hates it when you give him pet names, but you call him 'His Majesty' or 'My King' and most of the time it's in a mocking tone

≿━━━━━━━━༺👑༻━━━━━━━━≾   Bonus Characters!:

≿༺💕༻≾ 

Sun Morningstar:

His for you: Firefly, Sunshine, Angel, My Dear/My Darling, My Queen (he'll call you 'My Queen' no matter your gender identity)

Yours for him: Sunny, Your Majesty, Honey

≿━━━━━━━━༺☀༻━━━━━━━━≾ Moon Morningstar:

His for you: Shooting Star, Starlight

Yours for him: My Moon, Nightlight

≿━━━━━━━━༺🌕༻━━━━━━━━≾ Echo Shine/Morningstar:

His for you: My Gem, Crystal (if that's not your name), Diamond, My First Love

Yours for him: Man I don't fucking know even though he's my character xd

≿━━━━━━━━༺💎༻━━━━━━━━≾ Rosabell Moon:

His for you: Rosebud, Sugar, Sugar Lips, My Dear/My Darling/My Dearest, My Love, Honey, Cutie, Gorgeous (he's a bit like Killer, he's probably used every nickname you could call a lover at least once) 

Yours for him: he doesn't care what you call him

≿━━━━━━━━༺🌹༻━━━━━━━━≾

I ran out of ideas halfway through this-

#Undertale #Undertale aus #Au sans #Bad sanses #Nightmare Sans #Dust Sans #Horror Sans #Killer Sans #Crescent Sans #Angst Sans #Merciless sans #Headcanons #Oc's #Sun Morningstar #Moon Morningstar #Echo Morningstar #Rosabell Moon #Nicknames #Boyfriend scenarios #x reader

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

001 of 2023

I’m a HUMAN, so I MUST be stereotyped I’m into THEATER & ART, so I MUST be a homosexual I have RED HAIR so I MUST have no soul I’m a GIRL, so I MUST be WEAK I’m a NEGRO so I MUST carry a gun I’m BI, so I MUST think every girl I see is hot I’m a BOHEMIAN, so I MUST be a lazy drug addict I LOVE ANIMALS, so I MUST be a vegetarian I’m a TREEHUGGER, so I MUST be a drug addicted hippie I’m INTO JIMMY HENDRIX, so I MUST be on drugs I’m a MUSICIAN, so I MUST not be doing anything with my life I have GOOD GRADES, so I MUST be a nerd or suck-up I have GREEN SKIN, so I MUST be a wicked witch I’m BLONDE, so I MUST be a stupid ditz I’m JAMAICAN so I MUST smoke weed I’m a FEMALE GAMER, so I MUST be ugly or crazy I live in the COUNTRY, so I MUST live on a farm. I WEAR BLACK, so I MUST be goth I’m HAITIAN so I MUST eat cat I’m ASIAN, so I MUST be sexy I’m JEWISH, so I MUST be greedy I’m YOUNG, so I MUST be naive I’m GAY, so I MUST have AIDS I’m a LESBIAN, so I MUST have a sex-tape I’m SOUTHERN, so I MUST be white trash I’m DIFFERENT, so I MUST just want attention I’m ARAB, so I MUST be a terrorist I’m WICCAN, so I MUST be a devil-worshipping baby killer I SPEAK MY MIND, so I MUST be a bitch I’m a GAY RIGHTS SUPPORTER, so I WILL go to hell I’m a CHRISTAN/PROTESTANT so I MUST think gay people should go to hell I SUCK MY OWN BLOOD FROM WOUNDS, so I MUST have a vampire fetish (hahahahah XDD) I’m RELIGIOUS, so I MUST shove my beliefs down your throat I’m ATHEIST so I MUST hate the world I don’t have a RELIGION, so I MUST be evil and have no morals I’m REPUBLICAN, so I MUST not care about poor people I’m DEMOCRAT, so I MUST not believe in being responsible I am LIBERAL, so I MUST be gay I TAKE (or used to take) ANTI-DEPRESSANTS, so I MUST be crazy I’m a GUY, so I MUST only want to get into your pants I’m IRISH, so I MUST have a bad drinking problem I’m INDIAN, so I MUST own a convenient store I’m a good ACTOR/ACTRESS, so I MUST be a liar I’m an ACTOR/ACTRESS, so I MUST be mean I’m THIN, so I MUST have an eating disorder I’m NATIVE AMERICAN, so I MUST dance around a fire screaming like a savage I’m a CHEERLEADER, so I MUST be a whore with a jock boyfriend I’m a DANCER, So I must be stupid, stuck up, and a whore I wear SKIRTS a lot, so I MUST be a slut I’m AMERICAN, so I MUST be an overweight pig with no boundaries I’m a BLACK BELT, so I MUST always want to kick someone’s ass I’m a PUNK, so I MUST do drugs I’m RICH, so I MUST be a conceited snob I’m a WHITE GIRL, so I MUST be a nagging, steal-your-money kind of girlfriend I’m CUBAN, so I MUST spend my spare time rolling cigars I’m a CHRISTIAN, so I MUST hear crazy God voices in my head I’m NOT A VIRGIN, so I MUST be easy I FELL IN LOVE WITH A MARRIED MAN, so I MUST be a home-wrecking whore I’m a TEENAGE MOM, so I MUST be an irresponsible slut I’m POLISH, so I MUST wear my socks with my sandals (XD) I’m ITALIAN, so I must have a “big one” I’m EGYPTIAN, so I must be a TERRORIST I’m PRETTY, so I MUST not be a virgin I HAVE STRAIGHT A’S, so I MUST have no social life I DYE MY HAIR CRAZY COLORS, so I MUST be looking for attention I DRESS IN UNUSUAL WAYS so I MUST be looking for attention I’m a VEGETARIAN, so I MUST be a crazy political activist I HAVE A BUNCH OF BOYS who are FRIENDS, so I MUST be screwing them all I HAVE A BUNCH OF GIRLS WHO ARE FRIENDS, so I MUST be a player I have big boobs, so I MUST be a hoe I’m COLOMBIAN, so I MUST be a drug dealer I WEAR WHAT I WANT, so I MUST be a poser I’m RUSSIAN, so I MUST be cool cuz that’s how Russians roll I’m GERMAN, so I must be a Nazi I hang out with GAYS, so I must be GAY TOO I’m a GIRL, so I MUST suck at all guy sports I’m BRAZILIAN, so I MUST have a BIG BUTT I’m PUERTO RICAN, so I MUST look good and be conceited. I’m SALVADORIAN, so I MUST be in MS 13 I’m POLISH, so I MUST be greedy I’m HAWAIIAN so I MUST be lazy I like CATS, so I MUST grow up to be a crazy old cat lady who lives alone (lmao) I’m PERUVIAN, so I MUST like llamas I’m a STONER so I MUST be going in the wrong direction I’m a VIRGIN so I MUST be prude I’m STRAIGHT EDGE so I MUST be violent I’m BLACK so I MUST love fried chicken and kool-aid I’m a GIRL who actually EATS LUNCH, so I MUST be fat I’m SINGLE so I MUST be ugly I’m a SKATER so I MUST do weed and steal stuff I’m a PUNK so I MUST only wear black and date only other punks I’m ASIAN so I MUST be a NERD that does homework 24/7 I’m MIXED so I MUST be screwed up (still within Europe, though) I’m a FEMALE, so I MUST not SWEAR I’m MUSLIM so I MUST be a terrorist I’m in BAND, so I MUST be a dork I’m BLACK so I MUST believe JESUS WUZ A BROTHA I’m MORMON so I MUST be perfect I’m WHITE and have black friends so I MUST think I’m black I’m GOTH so I MUST worship the devil \m/ lol I’m HISPANIC, so I MUST be dirty I’m NOT LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, so I MUST be a loser I’m OVERWEIGHT, so I MUST have a problem with self control I’m PREPPY, so I MUST shun those who don’t wear Abercrombie & Hollister I’m on a DANCE team, so I must be stupid, stuck up, and a whore I’m RICH, so I MUST be a conceited snob I’m MEXICAN, so I MUST have hopped the border I GOT A CAR FOR MY BIRTHDAY, so I MUST be a spoiled brat I’m BLACK, so I MUST love watermelon I’m BI, so I MUST think every person I see is hot I’m an ASIAN GUY, so I MUST have a small penis I’m a FEMALE BLACK BELT, so I MUST be a lesbian I’m a GUY CHEERLEADER, so I MUST be gay I’m a PREP, so I MUST be rich I don’t like the SUN so I MUST be an albino I have a lot of FRIENDS, so I MUST love to drink and party I wear tight PANTS and I’m a guy, so I MUST be emo I couldn’t hurt a FLY, So I MUST be wimp I support GAY RIGHTS, so I MUST fit in with everyone I hang out with TEENAGE DRINKERS AND SMOKERS, so I MUST smoke and drink too I don’t like to be in a BIG GROUP, so I MUST be anti-social I have a DIFFERENT sense of HUMOR, so I MUST be crazy I LIKE TO BE MYSELF, so I MUST be cocky and arrogant I tell people OFF, so I MUST be an over controlling bitch My hair gets GREASY a lot, so I MUST have no hygiene skills I’m DEFENSIVE, so I MUST be over controlling and a bitch I’m a NUDIST, so I MUST want everyone to see my boobs I read COMICS, so I MUST be a loser I hang out with a FORMER PROSTITUTE, so I MUST be a whore myself I’m TEXAN so I MUST ride a horse I’m a GOTH, so I MUST be a Satanist I’m a CROSSDRESSER, so I must be homosexual I draw ANIME so I MUST be a freak I am a FANGIRL so I MUST be a crazy, obsessed stalker I WATCH PORN so I MUST be perverted I’m an ONLY CHILD so I MUST be spoiled I’m INTELLIGENT so I MUST be weak I’m WELSH so I MUST love sheep I’m a YOUNG WRITER, so I MUST be emo I’m CANADIAN, so I MUST talk with a funny accent I’m a GUY, so I MUST ditch my pregnant girlfriend o.O’ I’m CANADIAN, so I MUST love hockey and beavers I’m DISABLED, so I MUST be on Welfare I’m a FEMINIST, so I MUST have a problem with sexuality and I want to castrate every man on the earth I’m a TEENAGER, so I MUST have a STEREOTYPE I WEAR A BIG SUNHAT when I go outside, so I MUST be stupid I like BLOOD, so I must be a VAMPIRE I’m an ALBINO, so I MUST be an evil person and A MURDERER I’m ENGLISH, so I MUST speak with either a cockney or a posh accent, love tea and cricket, and have bad teeth I’m WHITE, so I MUST be responsible for everything going wrong on the planet: past, present, and future (that’s a conspiracy, you know; 53643654end.) I don’t like YAOI or YURI, so I must be a HOMOPHOBE I’m not the most POPULAR person in school, so I MUST be a loser I care about the ENVIRONMENT, so I MUST be a tree hugging hippy I have a FAN CHARACTER, so I MUST be an annoying Mary-sue I CHAT, so I MUST be having cyber sex I’m PAGAN so I MUST sacrifice babies and drink the blood of virgins I’m PAGAN so I MUST worship Satan I’m CONSERVATIVE, so I MUST be against Abortion I’m SWEDISH so I MUST be a tall, blond, blue-eyed lesbian I’m a LESBIAN so I MUST want to get with every single girl that I see I like CARTOONS, so I MUST be IRRESPONSIBLE I like READING, so I MUST be a LONER I have my OWN spiritual ideology; therefore I MUST be WRONG or MISGUIDED I am WICCAN, so I MUST be a SATANIST I DISAGREE with my government, so I MUST be a TERRORIST I am a WITCH, so I MUST be and OLD HAG and fly on a broomstick I DON’T CURSE, so I MUST be an outcast I wear BLACK nail polish, so I MUST be EMO, GOTH, or PUNK I like GAMES, ANIME and COMICS, so I MUST be childish I’m SWEDISH, therefore I MUST be WHITE I SPOT GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, so I MUST be a pedantic jerk. I’m GOTHIC, so I MUST be mean I’m STRONG so I MUST be stupid I’m Australian so I MUST hunt crocodiles and talk to kangaroo’s I go to RENFAIRES, so I MUST talk weird, be a loser, and not be up with the times I’m GAY so I’m after EVERY straight guy around I love MARCHING BAND, so I MUST be a friendless freak I DRINK and SMOKE, so I MUST have no life I am friends with a CUTTER, so I MUST be a cutter too I am an HONOR STUDENT, so I MUST be a NERD I CRY EASILY, so I MUST be a wimp I can’t help POINTING OUT MISTAKES so I MUST be an over-controlling perfectionist I’m a PERFECTIONIST so I MUST check everything ten times, then burst into tears at one mistake I DON’T LIKE to talk about my personal life so I MUST be having problems I can’t help but BLUSH when I’m around a cute guy so I MUST be a dumb slut I’m good at SINGING so I MUST need attention I’m QUIET so I MUST be stuck-up I sit ALONE at lunch so I MUST be snobbish I still have SLEEPOVERS with my female friends so I MUST be lesbian I’m HARD TO FIGURE OUT so I MUST be impossible to get along with I sometimes say I LOVE MY FRIENDS so I MUST be gay/lesbian I wear MAKE-UP so I MUST be ugly I LOVE country music so I MUST be a redneck hillbilly I am SKINNY, so I MUST be sensitive about my weight I have ARTISTIC TALENT, so I MUST think little of those who don’t I’m EMOTIONAL, so I must be depressed I HAVE MANY DIFFERENT INTERESTS, so I MUST be unable to commit to one thing I’m a PERSON, so I MUST be LABELED

#survey #bolding survey #themed survey

[anestofocs]

fill in the below categories with several things that your character can be identified by.

𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 / 𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂:

Love: Yuki loves openly and without shame. He built his business as a labor of love in order to give his community a place of safety.

Anger: Like a fire that scorched all around him. Yuki holds a deep anger for the injustices inflicted upon him and his “siblings” Yuki was born with his rage.

Compassion: A strange emotion for an Assassin, yet it exists. He'll drop everything to help another who needs it and genuinely wants a world where people like him are no longer needed. His heart is bog undercall that gruff.

Coldness: When on the job, all other emotions fade. A heart turned to ice. He strikes without a second thought. Not caring hat the life gading in front of his eyes wax once loved. Wariness: Having been hurt repeatedly since birth, Yuki puts up wall after wall to shield his heart. He trusts rarely and when he does it is a slow process. Every stranger is a potential enemy. He cannot let himself be hurt again. 𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙾𝚁𝚂:

Black

Pink

Greens

Reds

Browns

Neons

𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂:

Smoke: From club smoke machines, on and off again cigarette habits and the smoke o a gun. The scent of smoke follows Yuki like a cloud.

Honeysuckle and Roses: The sweet scents of flowers that mean love and the smell of his favorite cologne. Those who smell of it see his sensual side.

Cinnamon: A secret baker, the smell reminds him of home and his found family.

𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶:

Leather Jackets: Rarely seen without one. Be it studded, patched or worn down. Yuki's jackets are his precious babies.

Ripped Jeans: What punk doesn't have good durable jeans with a little wear and tear?

His ex's coat: Long with a thick fur lining. It reminds him of that wonderful time in Russia with the man who stole his heart….

Tight Outfits: A collection of clothing that hugs his body just right. Be it for clubbing, attracting welcome eyes or business. Yuki has just the right look for tge occasion.

Drag outfits: Can't be a Queen if you don't look cute.

Tactical gear: Trusted, safe and more importantly, keeps his identity hidden when it's time to “Clean”.

𝙾𝙱𝙹𝙴𝙲𝚃𝚂:

Knives: Small and big hidden away in case of defense where fists would fail

Phones: Burners and regular, Yuki is a busy guy and it's not uncommon to see a phone in his hand

Locket: A sentimental item that holds a picture of the two men who saved him. One a doctor, the other a rather excellent person.

𝚅𝙸C𝙴𝚂 / 𝙱𝙰𝙳 𝙷𝙰𝙱𝙸𝚃𝚂;

Alcohol dependent: Yuki tends to deal with stress and his worries by picking up a bottle and getting wasted.

Secretive: Yuki keeps a lot of his past, feelings and dreams hidden away from even those he loves. Both to protect everyone and of stubbornness.

Murderer for Hire: Yuki funds his community efforts through blood and death. While selective on his targets. He's still a killer.

Mood swings: As a rather traumatized man, Yuki doesn't have the healthiest way of regulating his moods. He can go from flirty to suicidally depressed rather quickly. With no real healthy way to cope.

𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙰𝙶𝙴:

Flirty Smiles: As natural flirt and ex sex worker, these smiles come easy to him.

Shrugs: A casual show of confusion or indecisiveness. Sometimes a show of discomfort

Silent steps: Yuki learnt not to make a sound if he didn't want to be hurt. This lesson stayed even to adulthood.

Awkward Glances: Rare but still there, Yuki gives glances to anywhere but the conversation if he is uncomfortable with the subject.

Lazy posture: The typical bisexual inability to sit normally, his casual outer demeanor, all of these and more make Yuki from the outside look like a lazy sloth.

𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂:

Smokey bars

Punk concerts and scenes

Flower gardens

Rainy nights

Neon signs

Back allies

Underground arenas

pottery studios

bat wings

The moon

Tagged by: @ourladyoflight Thank you! 💖

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this. We're too shy to @ folks

#Bad Decisions in Leather- Yukii

[finsterhund]

Doing shit like watching Anaconda while high has made me realize that an integral part to how humanity has demonized snakes in culture is by depicting the animal as an inherently sapient serial killer with a vore fetish and then proceeding to try and gaslight the audience into believing it's just a normal naturally evolved animal without human comparable sapience.

Sharks get a bad portrayal too of course but if anything the "mindless killer" depiction sharks get is less of a drastic demonization than "this ambush predator goes out of its way to torture fellow sapient prey first even if it's not at all advantageous to its survival" that snakes get.

There's a scene where the snake somehow curls its coils like they're a prehensile tail around prey before THEN LOOMING OVER and slowly going to swallow. When snakes literally lead in with a bite and then reflexively curl their coils in a similar motion to how alligators death roll to rip pieces. Like. That snake is intentionally doing something stupid and unnatural for the benefit of the audience. It's showing off. The snake is fully aware of the theatrics. There's no way this animal can be how snakes evolved in our real world. That thing cound understand the trolley problem. That thing could probably be taught to work a call center or pay taxes.

Jurassic Park always felt pretty realistic despite wildly inaccurate mutant dinosaurs because while clever, you get the sense that say for instance the raptors in particular, are behaving like real animals. The things they do are within the realm of possibilities for what we know about the species and modern comparisons. They act like birds! Like corvids. Then you fucking have pennywise-tier "fear seasons the meat" snake making sure his throat pouch looks real nice in the wide shot angle.

Ironically the most realistic portrayal of a hypothetical man-eating snake is Kaaa from fucking Disney's jungle book. The OG motherfucker. This bastard is in a 2D cartoon singing and using hypnotism and shit but still within this cartoon slapstick ass universe behaves more like you expect a snake would. Fat lazy and stupid. Just find a way to get the prey to give itself over to you. Sure. Fuck it I don't care. I'm gonna nap in this tree until something comes and bonks me on the head.

With that being said I also do find other creatures that aren't anatomically modern bipedal hairless apes having comparable sentience and sapience to us in media to be deeply fascinating so you must understand that I do have some fondness for the serial killer snake bullshit. But yeah. It kinda sucks people do it to a real animal though.

Then I have my monsters where I'm like, not trying to deny they're like, sapient, but there's evolutionary similarities between them and lizards. Because fuck it. That's cool. But I'm not gonna like, throw real life geckos under the bus for the sake of giving added "legitimacy" to my fantasy creature. Just fucking own it that it's a fantasy creature. Like tremors did. Fucking love tremors.

Anyways.

Idk where I was going with this.

Human media in its portrayal of snakes as an inherently evil animal has always really leaned into "this snake is sapient and likes to hurt things on purpose" pretty much since square one. It's actually really depressing. My mom is absolutely fucking terrified of snakes and every time someone tries to get to the bottom of why it's because she's attributing human reason to the behaviors of a wild animal. This is a fucking tube of stinky boy that likes to be fat and warm and safe. It is the most basal of instincts to want to be fat and warm and safe.

Anyways I love snakes if you couldn't tell. And I don't mean to insult them by calling them big dumb lazy fat stinky idiots. You can also call human babies these things. I'm just saying they literally don't have a thing going on in those cute little stubby heads of theirs even remotely comparable to malice. Provided they feel safe they are one of the more docile types of animals out there.

I think humans just want to see dragons where there are no dragons. I'm sorry you can't see a dragon. I'm really sorry. I wish we had dragons too.

#text post #negative

[msviolacea]

You know, I watch video game YouTube and BookTube and things like that, and I think “wow it’d be fun to do some rambling about the things I love like that,” but then I remember I’m a 40+ woman who is overweight and not entirely photogenic, and that video is not my medium in any way.

... which probably means I should get to starting that podcast, because at least my voice is semi-okay. *shrug*

#jaime rambles #i always come into things going #i wish i'd had the energy and drive to get into this 5 years ago #but depression and laziness are killers every time #whee #video is as always #a medium for nearly any men #and women who fit standard beauty conventions #(usually white conventions tbh) #so I admire anyone who has the nerve to do it #who doesn't 100% fit those conventions

[shirecorn]

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

#shire screams #art tips #ask #art block #long post

[thatadhdfeeling]

"Everyone has a little ADHD" is so disheartening, discouraging, hurts, and is an instant mood-killer. But it is also dangerous.

Hearing that everyone else can overcome the obstacles that you struggle with daily really sucks. But we have a disorder. It's a disability. It's not our fault. We do things differently. And that's okay.

But by saying that everyone has ADHD just because most symptoms are MILDLY experienced by neurotypical people sometimes... It hurts. It forces us with the disorder to compare ourselves to better abled people and creates false and impossible expectations. This is why anxiety and depression are commonly seen in people with ADHD. By not recognizing that we handle things differently, we are being set up for failure.

Everyone struggles in some way sometimes. I wish no one had to. But a diagnosable disorder means that these struggles are amplified and affect every moment of our entire lives. Even if you are on medication and/or are working with a behavioural physiologist, you still have the disorder. A paraplegic in a wheelchair can do more than without one, but they are still disabled and are unable to do many of the same tasks as able-bodied people, or as easily. Telling neurodivergent people that everyone else has the same struggles, but they can overcome them, is like a fish telling a dog it can breathe under water. We can't. It's not about effort, we just can't. Sure, we can hold our breath for a bit, but to get to the other side of the ice-covered pond, we need a bridge. We are different.

Saying everyone has ADHD tells us that you think we are lazy, stupid, and don't put enough effort in. Trust me, we tell ourselves this enough. In fact, we usually put MORE effort into simple tasks and still struggle with them. Don't give us impossible expectations. Don't compare us to neurotypical people in this way. Don't invalidate our disorder. Saying everyone has ADHD is ableist. Stop!

Side note: This applies to any disorder or disability. Saying everyone has OCD or is a bit autistic is also wrong and harmful. Self-diagnosis before seeing a medical professional isn't a bad thing when it comes from a place of genuine concern, but invalidating mental or physical health is. And yes, because of our struggles and differences, we have developed skills or symptoms that can be beneficial and help us overtake our neurotypical counterparts at times. But this doesn't mean we don't still struggle to fit our differently abled selves into a typically abled world.

Other side note: I'm a newly diagnosed adult with ADHD. I'm still learning and I'm trying to use inclusive language. If I'm incorrect in anything I say in my rants or if I offend anyone, I'm sorry, please educate me. It's mostly me just trying to get all of my thoughts and feelings out of my head and into the world.

#living with adhd #adhd #adhd problems #adhd memes #adhd inattentive #neurodivergent #adult adhd #adhd things #adhd brain #actually adhd #I have obsessions and compulsions. I do not have OCD #There is a difference #thatadhdfeeling #theadhdfeeling #tadhdfpost

[hermannsthumb]

Maria. *Grabs your face* MARIA. I would LOVE to see 15 bobbing for apples from the autumn fic meme written by you. Nothing would delight me more!

Anonymous asked: Halloween prompt #15 please!!... "Bobbing for apples but we meet accidentally underwater lady and the tramp style." OR "I thought we'd have fun bobbing for apples but you actually hate it and are really mad now"

15. Bobbing For Apples

from autumn fic prompts here

KATE ❤️__ ❤️for you id write anything... and anon the lady and the tramp scenario is so fucking funny/good

---------------------------

It’s a really good thing that Hermann has Newt, because if Newt’s being honest, he has no damn clue what the poor dude would do without him. Work himself to death, probably. Or spend every Saturday night alone in his bunk. So depressing. Newt considers it his big charitable act of—well, of all time—to force Hermann into social functions, whether it's fun nights out at the bar (with Newt!), or down the hall a few feet for awesome movie marathons in Newt’s quarters (with Newt!), or something like tonight, which is a super awesome and fun Halloween party that, like, everyone on the base was invited to (including Newt!).

Hermann was all set to spend another night alone (probably changing the batteries in all his calculators or rearranging the hangers in his closet) when Newt dragged him out, more or less by the collar of his argyle sweater, with multiple threats to make his life a living hell the following week in the lab if he didn't comply immediately. "Seriously, dude," Newt had said, ominously, while Hermann looked at him like a furious cat ready to take a swipe, "you're gonna put in those vampire fangs and get drunk with me, or you're gonna regret it. I mean it." Newt was not opposed to blasting the shittiest depths of his Spotify account over his bluetooth speakers or using Hermann's favorite coffee mug to hold his dissection tools. Luckily for both of them, Hermann decided the risk wasn't worth it.

Newt knows Hermann is bound to recognize how selfless Newt is being and thank him for it eventually. Probably. Maybe a few years from now. For now, Newt is enjoying the warm and fuzzy feeling of having done a good deed, and also of drinking a considerable amount of spiked punch.

Hermann is not enjoying either.

"I did, in fact, have plans for tonight," he tells Newt, sipping his ginger ale and observing Newt with a fierce scowl. He flat-out refused the booze Newt tried to push on him. It's fine, whatever—it's enough for Newt, right now anyway, that he actually came. They'll work up to bigger stuff like that later.

"Like what?" Newt says. "Doing a crossword puzzle and watching the second half of that boring-ass documentary you put on last weekend?"

Newt considers it an affront to the very concept of movie nights that Hermann used his pick on a documentary, and one about the jaeger program that didn't even bother interviewing him, no less. Newt loves a good documentary, don't get him wrong, but movie nights are for escapist shit. You don't see him switching on Godzilla. Plus, having to watch stock footage of Dr. Gottlieb Sr. blabbing his mouth about how smart he was while you were debating making a move on his son (who was currently in you bed, looking super cute in your sweatpants, because he'd forgotten to pack pj's) was kind of a mood-killer. "It wasn't boring," Hermann sniffs, which tells Newt that his guess was dead-on. "It was...interesting. And anyway, just because they aren't your idea of plans..."

"Okay, whatever," Newt says. "Let's just have fun. That's the point of a party."

He throws an arm around Hermann's shoulder and drags him closer, until their heads knock together painfully. He hears Hermann growl low in his throat. Newt doesn't say, soon, we won't have the time to do stupid shit like this anymore, so we should enjoy it while we can, even though he wants to. It's better to not make fun stuff depressing. Plus, Hermann might decide to take that as an invitation to bail and put on his documentary. Instead he reaches up across Hermann and flicks his chin. Hermann's whole body stiffens. "I can't believe I got you into this super awesome party and you're not even pretending to be thankful," Newt says.

With no great deal of difficulty, Hermann pushes Newt off of him. Newt lands heavily back in his chair, making the whole thing wobble, and he laughs as he just manages to catch himself from falling off the other side. "You got me in?" Hermann says. "Newton, I was invited three weeks ago."

Newt stops laughing. "You were?"

"Yes," Hermann says. The corner of his lip twitches up, with a smugness so powerful Newt can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Bastard. "I took it upon myself to ask if you might be permitted to come, too." He adds, sarcastically, "Out of the kindness of my heart. I know how terribly put out you get when you aren't included in these sorts of things."

Newt considers this new information, and then discards it, because it really doesn't fit the image of himself he's been cultivating as the cool, hip friend to Hermann's uncool, unhip nerd. Like, come on, between the two of them, Newt is obviously the one you'd want at your party. Hermann's gotta be kidding. Probably. Maybe. "It's a lame party anyway," Newt mumbles.

He tries to put his arm around Hermann's shoulder again, remembers that Hermann really didn't like that the first time, and then drops it back down at his side instead. "Totally lame," he continues. Newt recalls the Halloween parties of his youth with a warm, fond glow: elaborate costumes, tacky decorations, passing around bowls of peeled grapes in the dark, carving jack-o-lanterns while his dad hovered protectively over him to make sure he didn't take a finger off with the knife. This is none of that. Barely anyone even dressed up! The lack of Halloween spirit is tragic. "There aren't even any party games."

"Yes there are," Hermann says, mildly.

He points across the room at a large metal tub that Newt somehow missed before. It looks like it's filled with water, and...

"Dude," Newt says.

He doesn't wait to ask before he's hopping to his feet and dragging Hermann along after him by his blazer cuff. Hermann swats at his heels a few times with his cane, but eventually—like he does with most of Newt's ideas—gives in. "I'm a fuckin' champ at bobbing for apples," Newt boasts. "I used to—oops, excuse me," (he runs into two guys who are, like, twice his height, upsetting their drinks, and he hears Hermann groan as something purple spills on his sweater), "I used to always win it at the fall fest when my dad would take me." And then when he went back as an adult by himself, but it was less impressive a win when you were up against a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"You do have an exceptionally large mouth," Hermann says, rubbing at his stained shoulder. "I suppose that helps." As Newt bends to investigate the iron tub, he says, "Oh, Newton, don't, it's been out all night. Who knows what sorts of germs are in there?"

Newt gets to his knees and rolls up the sleeves of his PPDC-issued labcoat. He's a mad scientist to Hermann's vampire (vampire librarian?) tonight. Yeah, it's kind of a lazy costume, but it was free—he already had everything he needed in the lab. "I can get it in five seconds, max," he declares. His record is one second, but he's the first to admit he's a little rusty, and he'd rather impress Hermann by beating his estimate. "Will you hold my headlamp?"

Grumbling, Hermann takes it. Newt sets his glasses on the ground. "You're going to get yourself bloody soaking," Hermann says, and then he complains about something else, too, but Newt is screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head into the tub, which makes it difficult to hear him. One second—two seconds—two and a half—Newt emerges victorious from the tub, teeth clenched down firmly on an apple, and accidentally splatters a large amount of water on Hermann's shoes. He pulls the apple out of his mouth with a grin and waves it at Hermann. "See. I'm a fucking pro."

He tucks his glasses back on his face to discover that Hermann is staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. Newt can't decide if it's the blacklight bulbs overhead that are washing him out and making him look so flushed, or something else entirely. Then, in a second, he's grumpy and scowling and tsking over his wet shoes. "A pro," he echoes. "Hardly. It can't be that complicated."

Newt gestures grandly at the tub and takes a bite out of his apple. Hermann can always be relied upon to never turn down a challenge, especially when it means making Newt look—potentially—stupid. Newt uses it to his advantage often. Whatever it takes to help the guy have a good time. "It's all yours, dude."

Hermann grumbles something again about Newt being too arrogant for his own good, and something else about showing Newt how to do it without making a mess of everything, then gets down to his knees with a quiet hiss of discomfort. He shoves his cane, and Newt's headlamp, at Newt, though bewilderingly leaves his blazer on. "I'll be just a moment," he says, and dunks his head into the tub.

He splashes back up no more than five seconds later. Apple-less. "Bugger," he coughs, and then coughs some more. The entire front of his sweater is soaked. "I didn't—I didn't start out right. Let me—"

Newt watches Hermann try to drown himself a few more times in mild interest before he finally intercedes. "Need a hand?" he says, getting to his knees next to Hermann.

"No," Hermann splutters.

Newt takes his glasses off again. "Yeah, you do. Okay, now watch me—"

He emerges with another apple in seconds.

Hermann grits his teeth. "Newton—"

"One more?" Newt says, his grin widening.

Back under. Another apple. He winks at Hermann when he goes in for a fourth time, and this time, he feels the water of the tank being upset as Hermann (refusing to be outdone once again) splashes in alongside him. God, Newt loves riling Hermann up like this—he gets so funny, and kinda cute, when he's mad about something. Red in the face, and scowling, and sometimes (when he's real mad) speaking in a dangerously low and rough sort of voice with his r's rolling that makes Newt shiver, just a little. Like, Newton, you worthless, pathetic little man, cease this immediately, or else I'll... He actually said that to Newt once. It made Newt feel a little warm under his collar. Hermann's probably going to say something similar to him this time, and Newt can't wait.

Ten seconds in. Newt has been cutting Hermann a little slack at first, just to see if he can catch up, but finally decides to just go for the apple that's been bobbing steadily against his mouth this whole time. (He loves beating Hermann at stuff.)

And, well, apparently Hermann goes for it too.

They both miss the apple. Newt's mouth is up against Hermann's for another five seconds before he realizes what's happening (that that is definitely not an apple, that that is definitely a mouth, that that mouth is wide and weird another to belong to only one person Newt knows, that that mouth is parting in surprise, oh my God) and then he pulls away so quickly that he breathes in what feels like half the tub of water. He falls back on his ass, coughing furiously, and it's not until he shoves his glasses back on with a shaking hand that he realizes that Hermann has done the same. "I," Hermann says. His eyes are wide. "I'm sor—"

"It's fine," Newt squeaks.

"It was—"

"I know!"

Newt and Hermann's mouths were touching for five whole seconds. Underwater, while apples bobbed against their foreheads, but their mouths still touched. Oh my God. In elementary school, Newt thinks dizzily, that would be enough to catch cooties. This was so not how he wanted his awesome eventual seduction of Hermann to go down. For one thing, it wasn't even a seduction.

"I'm gonna get a towel," Newt says.

Hermann nods. He looks strangely adorable with water droplets on his nose and his hair plastered to his head like that. Newt has to get out of here before he does something stupid, like take Hermann's pointy cheeks between his hands and put their mouths together on purpose. He doesn't think Hermann would respond to that very well right now.

"I'll get you one too," Newt says, and it takes a lot of effort to force himself to his feet.

Hermann nods again.

"Okay," Newt says, and stumbles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he just catches Hermann raising a hand to his mouth.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #hermann's pov in that one bit was just 'mouth............'

[writerofthecourt]

beautiful illusionist

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

summary: you are living a dream right now. it’s about time that you wake up

warning: slight time skip spoilers, some swearing, suggestive material, cheating, toxic relationship

a/n: for you, suna anon. this is a lot more mature and dark(?) than what i’ve written so far, but i hope you guys still enjoy!

EDIT: the series’ masterlist can be found here

“[Y/N], this is Suna!” Atsumu said as he dragged you along, Osamu following close behind.

“Suna, this is [Y/N],” Atsumu proudly introduced, gesturing to your form as you timidly peeked out from his back. “She’s me and ‘Samu’s cousin.”

You nervously glanced at the intimidating male in front of you. He looked tall, even taller than Atsumu or Osamu if he decided to straighten out his posture.

His eyes were narrowed, glaring at you with suspicion before he scowled and said, “Oh god. There’s three of you now.”

You blinked in confusion, not expecting such a unique response. As Atsumu began to berate Suna for his lack of manners, you felt the beginnings of a giggle bubble up in your throat.

Your giggles were soon transformed into uncontrollable laughter as you genuinely laughed for the first time in weeks.

You were depressed about the move. Having moved halfway across the country to Hyogo for your dad’s job promotion, you were forced to say goodbye to your precious Tokyo, your friends, and the life that you had grown accustomed to.

You were nervous about starting high school, but starting high school in a totally different prefecture where you couldn’t even understand the dialect? That was a whole extra hurdle you needed to overcome. However, if this Suna character was the worst that this place had to offer, then you had a feeling that you would be just fine.

“Hi, I’m Miya [Y/N],” you said after you finished laughing, stepping away from your hiding spot with a grin. “I just moved here from Tokyo.”

Suna stared at you with a confused look before he shrugged his shoulders and introduced himself as well. “Suna Rintarou. Welcome to Hyogo.”

You smiled fondly as the memory came to an end. Staring down at your left hand, you curled your fingers around your engagement ring as you began to play with the beautiful piece of jewelry.

Letting out a weary sigh, you glanced at the clock and you watched as its hands ticked away, your hopes diminishing with every passing minute that Suna wasn’t home.

The perfectly cooked dinner had gone cold hours ago, but you still held out hope that you would be able to see Suna tonight, even if it was only to wish him goodnight before heading off to bed yourself.

Sitting alone at the dining room table and dressed in one of Suna’s old shirts, you hugged your legs and brought the shirt up to your nose, finding comfort in the smell of fabric softener mixed in with Suna’s faint scent. If you just closed your eyes, you could pretend that Suna was there and hugging you after a long day of practice.

As his fiancée, you took great pride in the fact that Suna was able to live his dream as a professional volleyball player on a Division 1 team. You were his biggest fan and supporter, but you were also human.

Suna’s busy schedule left you lonely on most days, with his demanding practices requiring him to stay late at the gym on most nights. As for your own job, the long commute to work often left you scrambling in the morning, only having enough time to peck Suna on the cheek before rushing out the door. So while this deadly combination left the two of you with little opportunity to see each other during the course of the week, you still made it work.

Picking up on the faint sound of keys, your head lifted when you heard the front door open, followed by quiet footsteps and the thump of a heavy bag.

“Rin!” you exclaimed as you excitedly ran to the genkan to hug your fiancé. “Welcome home! I missed you so much! Are you hungry? I can quickly reheat dinner for you.”

“I already ate before coming home,” Suna explained as he gently pushed you away. After hanging up his jacket and stepping out of his shoes, Suna picked up his gym bag and walked off towards the bedroom.

“Oh. How about a bath?” you suggested as you followed after him. “You must be tired after practice. I can run you a hot bath-”

“[Y/N],” Suna interrupted as he searched through the closet for some clean clothes. “I’m tired. I’m just going to take a shower and go to sleep. Speaking of which, why are you still up?”

“I was waiting for you,” you lamely explained, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

“Well, I’m home now, so go to sleep,” he sighed with exasperation.

“A-all right,” you conceded, no longer having the courage to look at Suna. “I’ll just finish cleaning up the dining room…”

“Good,” Suna said plainly before approaching you and lifting up your chin with his fingers. You smiled as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before heading off towards the bathroom.

You ignored how he smelled like sweet vanilla.

Like another woman’s perfume.

“You’re sure working hard today,” your co-worker remarked as you tapped away at your keyboard.

“Mhmhm,” you nodded excitedly. “Rintarou has a game today. If I can just finish this report in the next thirty minutes, I can still make it!”

Your co-worker smiled in amusement, watching as you typed in the last few numbers into your spreadsheet before sending it off to your supervisor with a dramatic flourish.

“And—done!” you exclaimed as you quickly grabbed your coat and purse after turning off your computer. “Sir, I’ll be leaving now.”

“All right. Be safe, Miya-kun,” your supervisor said once he received your report.

Bidding everyone at your office goodbye, you rushed to hail a taxi, quickly telling the driver where you wanted to go before settling down into the leather seats. As soon as you reached your destination, you quickly paid for your fare and ran off to make it to Suna’s game.

“Rintarou!” you happily shouted once you made it to your seat, waving to Suna as he began to turn red from your very enthusiastic display of affection.

Some of the audience members chuckled, while others glared at you in annoyance. Suna, on the other hand, simply looked away as his teammates started to tease him, elbowing him in the arms while they all laughed at his misery and embarrassment.

Letting out a small laugh yourself, you leaned back against your chair and merrily watched the game, loudly cheering whenever Suna managed to successfully block the opponents’ attacks.

When the game was finally over, you went down to the main entrance of the venue, waiting for Suna to finish up with his post-game meeting before the two of you could go home together.

Humming to yourself, you gently swayed as you observed the various people lounging around, chatting with one another and having a good time. Spotting a familiar figure, you were about to call out to Suna, but stopped once you saw the woman walking next to him. They seemed to be exchanging some words before she noticed you and indicated for Suna to follow her as she sauntered towards your idling form.

“[Y/N],” Suna called out. “Come and meet Minami.”

Meeting the pair halfway, you stopped right in front of the now noticeably beautiful woman. Her hair was a midnight black, complementing the emerald green of her eyes. Despite being dressed in a frumpy tracksuit, the outfit did nothing to take away from natural beauty and killer body.

“Uh, hi. Miya [Y/N],” you greeted before politely bowing. You were beginning to wonder if there was a requirement for everybody in the world of professional volleyball to be this good looking.

The woman said nothing, scrutinizing you up and down before she smirked once she realized that there was nothing remarkable about you. Tossing a lock of black hair over her shoulder, she introduced herself.

“Minami Sayaka,” she said with a haughty look on her face. “EJP Raijin’s new athletic trainer. You’re lucky to have Suna-kun.”

You tilted your head at her choice of words before nodding with a small smile. “Yeah, Rin’s the best.”

As you circled your arms around Suna’s waist and beamed up at him, the tall male could only look away with an unreadable expression painted on his face.

“Right,” Minami said, smirking as she passed you and Suna to make it to the exit. “I’ll see you later, Suna-kun.”

As she brushed past you, you caught the ends of a familiar, sweet scent. Calling out to Minami, she turned around and gave you a confused look as Suna did the same.

“I like your perfume,” you complimented with a grin. “What is it?”

“Oh? It’s french vanilla.”

“Rin, pay attention to me,” you pouted as the male continued to lie there against the headboard of the bed, mindlessly tapping and swiping away on his phone.

It was one of Suna’s rare break days, and you wanted to do something with your beloved. However, the lazy middle blocker seemed to prefer lounging around the house and doing nothing all day.

“We can watch a movie? Or go shopping?” you mindlessly listed off out loud. “Oh, maybe even a dinner date? We haven’t had one of those in a while.”

Suna only grunted, half-listening to your suggestions as he proceeded to type something on his phone, showing more interest in whoever he was texting than you.

Crawling onto Suna’s lap, you tried to peek over the top of his phone to see who he was texting. Unfortunately, Suna noticed your movements and angled the phone away from your curious eyes.

“Who are you talking to?” you asked with an innocent smile.

“Just some guys from the team. They want to work on a new strategy next week,” Suna mumbled as his thumb expertly moved across the phone screen.

“Well, can you talk to them later? You’ve been ignoring me for nearly thirty minutes,” you frowned with your arms crossed.

Humming in response, Suna continued to tap away at his phone, unaware that your annoyance had finally reached its tipping point. Fed up with his behaviour, you made a grab for Suna’s phone. However, your efforts were in vain, as Suna used his superior reflexes to grab you arms and flip you onto the bed.

Pinning you down with your arms above your head, you tried to shrink back from Suna’s heated glare as he practically grounded out his next words. “Never do that again.”

You felt your eyes beginning to tear up, annoyed and angry with Suna’s indignant treatment, but more so by his lack of care and tenderness after nearly a week of not regularly seeing each other.

Turning your head away, your voice trembled as you tried not to cry. “I-I just wanted you to pay attention to me…”

Seeing your forlorn expression, Suna sighed as he released your arms, proceeding to quickly type something on his phone before shutting it off. Placing the phone on the bedside table, Suna situated both of his hands next to your head, effectively caging you against the mattress.

“You really are a troublesome woman, did you know that?” Suna asked harshly as he narrowed his eyes into a glare. “Fine, I’ll play with you.”

Before you could even say anything, Suna began to attack your neck with aggressive bites and kisses, his hands wandering down to roughly grope at your chest. After a few moments of airy moans and heated touches, Suna’s mouth left your neck, his head leaning back to proudly admire the new painting across the canvas of your skin.

Diving back down to bite on a particularly sensitive part of your neck, Suna couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw how hard your hands were clenched around the bed sheets, trying to find something—anything—to keep you grounded.

“Is this what you wanted?” Suna whispered as his hands began to rub down the sides of your body, his thumbs making small circles against your skin once he reached your waist. You could do nothing but nod, letting out soft moans of pleasure while Suna simply revelled in the adorable little noises you made.

Reaching for your shorts, Suna deft fingers quickly removed your bottom layers before throwing your legs over his shoulders, darkly smirking when you gazed down at him with glassy eyes.

“Let me hear you scream,” was all he said before shoving his face between your legs.

The other subway passengers looked at you strangely as you swayed in your seat without a care in the world. You were happily smiling to yourself, and in your lap was a bag full of streamers, balloons, and other decorations needed to celebrate this wonderful occasion.

It was a perfectly normal day at the office when you suddenly had a dizzy spell while delivering some papers. Fearing for the health of one of his best employees, your supervisor allowed you to take the rest of the day off to head home and recuperate. Rather than going home, you instead went to confirm your suspicions regarding your recent bouts of sickness, and now you couldn’t be any more happy for your symptoms.

When the subway announcer finally named your stop, you happily exited the subway and made your way upstairs, beginning the fifteen minute walk from the station to your house.

As you walked up the pathway leading to the front door, you started to hum the tune of a catchy pop song that your co-worker had recently introduced to you. It wasn’t your usual cup of tea, but you couldn’t deny that it was a good song.

Silently closing the front door behind you, you slipped off your heels and hitched up your purse higher onto your shoulder before making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you stopped dead in your tracks as you noticed an unfamiliar pair of heels thrown across the genkan. It was quite strange, considering that they didn’t seem to be in your shoe size.

Your confusion only increased when you saw random articles of female clothing, along with Suna’s own clothes, carelessly strewn around the house, all leading towards the bedroom. Following the series of abandoned clothes, you stopped right in front of the bedroom door, clutching your bag of decorations tightly against your chest as you heard the muffled sounds of pleasure coming from behind it.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

“S-Suna-kun, more!”

“God, you’re so tight!”

You felt your body tremble as you brought a hand up to your mouth, being careful not to make any noise as you slowly backed away from the door. Returning to the living room, you took a seat on the couch, suddenly feeling suffocated and nauseous from all of the walls surrounding you and the accursed scent of french vanilla floating throughout the house. The initial shock and sadness soon faded into acceptance as you wiped away the remaining tears from your face.

Rifling through your bag of decorations, you pushed past the colourful streamers and star-shaped balloons to retrieve an even smaller lavender bag. Inside of this particular bag, you pulled out a miniature pair of knitted wool socks, soft and fuzzy to the touch. They were meant to be shown to Suna as a surprise, but now…

Finding comfort in the texture of the material, you began to wonder if Suna would have been just as happy as you were when you had found out about your condition. Perhaps not, considering…

Bringing a hand to your stomach, you smiled in resolution, knowing what you had to do. Picking up your bags, you quickly put back on your heels and quietly left the house.

You knew that you were making the right decision. It was time you stopped lying to yourself.

It was an all too familiar scene, your lone figure sitting at the dining room table, waiting for Suna to come home. This time, however, you were fully dressed, with two packed suitcases standing beside you. It wasn’t everything, just the essentials: your purse, phone, keys, wallet, some clothing, toiletries, and your important documents. Everything else could be left behind.

Hearing the familiar sound of clinking keys, you steeled yourself as the front door opened. Soon, Suna’s towering form walked into the living room before he stopped in his tracks to stare at you.

“What are you doing?” Suna questioned, gesturing to your current outfit and suitcases.

“I think it’d be best if we part ways,” you simply stated with a small smile.

Suna continued to stare at you before breaking off his gaze with a frown. “So you finally figured it out, huh?”

“I’ve actually known for a long time,” you admitted as you stood up from your seat, dragging your suitcases with you to where Suna was standing.

“Then why didn’t you leave?” Suna snapped, finding himself getting annoyed at your seemingly unperturbed attitude. “Why trap yourself in this loveless relationship?”

“I stayed because I wanted to believe that you would change,” you responded sadly as you removed your engagement ring, an item that once brought you immense joy at the very sight of it. It was a sign of Suna’s love for you, but now it only served as a cold reminder of what could have been.

Taking Suna’s hand, you gently placed the ring onto his open palm.

“Then you’re just an idiot,” Suna glared as he clenched his fist around the piece of jewelry.

“I don’t regret it,” you replied with your usual cheery grin. “This relationship, I mean. If anything, you taught me that I should learn to love myself first before loving anyone else.”

Gently bowing your head to Suna, you internally thanked him for all the times you two had shared together. You weren’t bitter or resentful, only glad to have known him.

Sending him one last smile, you bid him farewell. “Goodbye, Suna-san.”

With those last words, you took your belongings and slipped on your shoes, quickly exiting the place that you once called home. As soon as the door closed behind you, you let the tears begin to fall as you walked away.

Inside the house, Suna sighed and ruffled his hair, suddenly feeling even more exhausted than when he had initially left practice. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted a suspicious lavender bag sitting on the kitchen counter. Making his way over to the bag and peeking inside, Suna’s eyes widened as he took out a pair of adorable knitted wool socks, too small for anyone but a new born child to wear.

Looking back at the door, Suna didn’t have the strength to chase after you as the guilt and regret soon began to settle in his heart.

#suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou #miya osamu #miya atsumu #cheating #angst